Light Up with Confidence
by Paceismyhero
Summary: Multichapter story inspired by song prompt by carrie4angel, my own randomness, and some spoilers. Everything up to season 3, episode 3 has happened, but it's definitely going to take a Puckleberry turn. Rated M for later chapters! Please read and review!
1. Easy Year

**Author's Note:** It's been awhile since I was back, and even longer with a multi-chapter story. So, here's the standard warning that this takes a bit to get its feet on the ground, but I think that is natural with any story (can't just jump right to the good parts). As the summary says, this is partially inspired by a song prompt from carrie4angel, partially by a song I love that sort of fit into the prompt, partially by a quote that went along with the prompt, and, finally, partially by some spoilers and the ever-present urge to turn TV's glee into the Puckleberry show. LOL!

So, with that said, this is following the season as it stands so far (up to season 3, episode 3) and then does rely on some rumors/spoilers that are big news, so if you don't want to know those then I wouldn't suggest reading (::frown::). Although, you could just assume all of this is speculation (not far from the truth), and then it wouldn't matter what is a spoiler and what isn't.

What _does_ matter is that you read (and keep reading) and let me know what you think! I live for the feedback/reviews, and since I have no real direction for where this is going other than obviously somewhere M-rated (as it probably isn't going to feel that way until later) and somewhere Puckleberry-esque, I could be persuaded. Thanks in advance for everything!

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><p>Rachel Berry walked into McKinley High School on the arm of Finn Hudson, smiling sweetly as he talked about that night's upcoming game against the school's supposed rival. She honestly hadn't a clue what he was so worked up about; it wasn't Homecoming or a championship game or <em>anything<em>, really. But, she understood the importance of competition better than most, so she kept her opinion to herself (it was a new thing she was learning) and merely smiled and nodded when it seemed appropriate. She did, after all, think it was incredibly adorable how excited he got whenever he spoke of football and sports in general. Honestly, listening to him and Burt discuss the possible cancellation of the NBA season was possibly one of the most entertaining conversations of which she wasn't even a part.

"Yo, Finn," Dave Karofsky hollered from down the hall, his eyes moving to Rachel as he approached the couple and then back to the tall boy. "Coach wants you to see her in her office during your free period."

"Is it … I am … why?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "And I don't care. I just didn't wanna be benched for not telling you."

"Yeah. OK." Finn swallowed thickly, his head bobbing up and down once. "Thanks."

Rachel watched curiously as Karofsky weeded his way back into the crowd of students mingling before first period, noting his somewhat detached demeanor. She'd heard from Kurt that David was struggling with some pretty big personal problems, but really the only thing she considered after that revelation was why _Kurt_ knew anything about _David__'__s_ personal life. It smelled entirely too much like Stockholm Sydrome, but even her best friend status couldn't get the details out of Kurt.

"He seemed very subdued," she mentioned absently, working a different angle. "Have you noticed him acting differently during football practice?"

Finn knitted his eyebrows, looking up over her head toward where they'd last seen Karofsky and then back down to her. "No, but we work on different lines. I gotta pay attention to plays and offense but Dave is defensive."

"Oh." Rachel shrugged one shoulder, ending that conversation with more information than she needed but none of it helpful. She figured she could ask Kurt, but considering he was _just_ starting to talk to her after her misguided attempt to add her name to the presidential ballot, Rachel thought best to just let this one rest for now. "What do you think Coach Bieste wants?"

"I'm not sure." Finn sighed, finishing the combination on his locker and yanking the small metal frame open.

She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him panicked before. Or if she had, then that wasn't the emotion he was feeling right at that moment. When he was nervous he tended to get very antsy, moving his hands and legs as if playing some invisible drum set. It was distracting sometimes, but it usually passed after the first question or lyric or whatever had gotten him anxious to begin with. Now, though, he was more … concerned, which didn't make sense. Coach Bieste adored him, which Rachel could understand all too well.

How do you stay mad at a face like that?

"I'm positive it is nothing." She nodded her head in determination, trying to show him the confidence she had in her own words. "And you have a study hall second period, so you'll know soon enough."

"Yeah." He breathed out, zipping back up his backpack after exchanging some books. "You're right." He closed his locker and bent down to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Thanks, babe."

"See you at lunch." She waved sweetly before turning on her heels, set to the end of the hall for her science class.

"Just a bit faster and I mighta seen some panty, Berry."

She turned at his familiar timbre, her eyes already half rolled once she faced him. "Have you no restraint? It's barely eight in the morning."

Puck smirked, coming to stand in front of her. "I like it in the mornin'."

"You're incorrigible," she said on a sigh, turning around again to head to her class. She wasn't exactly trying to get rid of him, as he was in the same class, but she didn't want to participate in the somewhat dangerous conversation. Talking with Noah was more difficult than conversing with any other person because there were all these landmines between them. Eliminating all the ways he could turn something sexual, ever since Shelby came back into town their conversations have just gotten more and more awkward. Not to mention fewer and further between; she kind of missed him.

They'd grown closer last year and when her and Finn started to slowly pick things up again during the summer, Puck was never far away. He worked at the garage with Finn, so she saw him there, and then because of his best-friend-by-default status with Finn, she saw him at the Hudson-Hummel house a lot, too. Her and Finn had plenty of alone time, but whenever she'd come over to hang out with Kurt, Puck seemed to be there playing a video game with Finn or watching a game with Finn, Burt, and Blaine.

"Didja hear the big news?"

"About Finn?"

Puck scoffed. "Just 'cause your life revolves around him again don't mean the world does."

"That's not …" She huffed in response to his resulting laughter. Why had she missed him again? "What is the news?"

"Evans is comin' back."

"Excuse me?" Rachel swore she must have heard him wrong. "Evans? As in Samuel Evans?"

"Yeah." He shrugged while he flipped the chair of his desk around, letting his arms rest on the top of the back as he reclined forward. "Guess Trouty Mouth's dad got re-instated at the place that laid him off and whatever."

"Where did you hear this?"

"He texted Chang." Puck removed the pen from behind his ear and placed it down on the notebook he had carried in with him – the _only_ thing he'd carried in with him. "Said he'll be back Monday."

Rachel, for once in her life, wasn't sure what to say. She had a million things on her mind, starting with her concern about how Finn would take the news if Sam was looking to play on the football team. It was no secret those two hadn't gotten along during the season, and while a bulk of that had to do with mixed feelings for Quinn within the triangle, enough of it came from their shared position on the field. And, speaking of Quinn, what might this do to the reformed skank? She was just starting to recover from what Puck called a _mind fuck __of __epic __proportions_. Now probably wasn't the best time for an old flame to reappear in her life; after all, she'd already mistakenly gone after Puck before him and Shelby convinced her to get some help.

Then again, perhaps Sam wouldn't even bat an eyelash at Quinn. She had cheated on him, after all, and she wasn't his last girlfriend. She wasn't even the _second_ to last. He probably wouldn't be too shocked to know Santana was now in a committed relationship with Brittany (aside from the pregnant pause everyone seemed to take at her use of the word _committed_), but he _might_ be shocked to know Mercedes wasn't on the market anymore, either. Her and Sean were still going strong, giving each other a new annoying pet name every day and pretending to be the Bobby and Whitney of McKinley, but perhaps Sean was just a rebound for Sam's abrupt exit. It certainly would give a more reasonable explanation to Mercedes' sudden diva-out a couple of weeks ago than just wanting to be a star.

"Do you think he'll be in glee?" Rachel whispered in a panicked tone, her eyes wide as she turned her attention to the Mohawked boy to her right even though the teacher had begun the lesson for the day. "I mean … _our_ glee."

"Guess it depends." Puck rested his head against his arms, tilting his head down so his eyes were level with hers. He watched the impatience build until she was about to explode, chuckling softly before answering. "I think ya gotta ask Chocolate Thunder if you want an accurate answer."

Rachel sighed heavily. She hadn't spoken to Mercedes since the bigger girl left New Directions nearly two weeks ago. Rachel had gotten over her guilt for winning the part of Maria, but she had grown angrier with her former friend's attitude. Not once in her two-plus years in New Directions had _anyone_ put Rachel on a pedestal and for Mercedes to even utter that Mr. Schuester_always_ sided with her was just preposterous. Not one day went by where Rachel wasn't clawing her way to the top, and even then she often felt like she was always taking one step forward and then two steps back.

But that's what stars did. They endured the battle to win the war. They didn't just give up because they didn't get one show or one solo or one friend. They didn't let hurtful comments on a now-deactivated MySpace account stop them from dreaming, from believing. They had to continually fight for what they wanted, hide the battle scars with stage makeup and a smile. And Rachel could do it all. She was _born_ to be a star.

"Whatcha doin?" Puck asked, squinting his eyes to see the dark area under Rachel's desk. She'd pulled out her phone, which she typically left in her locker because it was against school policy to have them on during class. He saw Sam's name flash on her screen before she typed up a short message, and he couldn't help the amusement that bubbled over. "Naughty girl."

In a highly Puckerman fashion, Rachel tossed a smirk Puck's way before hitting send. She kept the mobile device hidden on her lap, her eyes forward again to focus on the teacher while she waited for a response. She didn't know whether Sam was in school or not or if he'd just take the day off to pack or move or whatever; she just really hoped he'd answer her text. They hadn't talked since early summer, but they had sort of become friends after the whole prom thing. In fact, Finn didn't know this, but Sam had actually been very protective of Rachel about the whole Jesse thing. It was strange not only because he had no prior knowledge of the situation, but also because the last person Sam should have been agreeing with at that moment was Finn.

Rachel's eyes lit up when her phone vibrated in her hand, but just as she went to open the message, the teacher appeared at her side, demanding her attention. "Yes?" She asked innocently, sliding the phone between her thighs for further disguise.

"Is there some kind of an emergency at home?"

"No," Rachel squeaked at the teacher's icy tone.

"Then please give me your phone."

"But …"

"And you can have it back at detention."

"But …"

"It's my phone, Mrs. Tiller," Puck chimed in, Rachel's head snapping toward him. "My bad."

The teacher groaned, her hand still outstretched as she waited for the device. "Fine, you can join her."

"But …"

"Enough!" Mrs. Tiller cut off Puck's argument. "Or I'll make it Saturday detention."

"Actually, my Saturday is much freer than this afternoon, and …"

"This isn't a democracy, Miss Berry. Now please be quiet and pay attention to the remainder of the lesson."

Rachel huffed out a breath, slumping heavily back into her chair as her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She had a perpetual scowl on her face for the entire class period, glaring at the teacher as she exited the room before anyone else. She had every intention of going to Figgins' office and demanding fair treatment or at least an open trial, but suddenly Puck's arm slid over her shoulders and changed her course.

"Ease up, B. I know how to get out of detention."

"I have no intention of eluding detention with further delinquent behavior. I simply believe the reprimand was without just cause."

"You're tellin' me."

Rachel frowned, ticking her chin up so she could see into his eyes more clearly. "I'm sorry, Noah. I appreciate your attempt to help me."

He shrugged, his arm falling off its perch now that she'd stopped. "What are friends for?" He rolled his eyes at the way her face instantly lit up, shaking his head as he walked backward. "Get any more excited and you're gonna need to wring your panties, Berry."

Her smile screwed back into a deep scowl, its intensity obstructed when Blaine and Kurt walked by. She let her repulsion for Noah fade away to make room for much more pressing matters, scurrying ahead to catch up to McKinley's new power couple. They'd grown into a more comfortable attachment, now freely holding hands as they walked down the hallway and sometimes even separating with a light kiss. She yearned to know the details of their sudden closeness – not in a gross way but in her and Kurt's typical pillow talk kind of way – but clearly hadn't earned back that right when her best friend had begrudgingly forgiven her.

"I have _big_ news."

Kurt and Blaine didn't stop walking, but each peered over their shoulder to evaluate the tiny brunette. "From the office of the President?"

Rachel took the snub in stride (she was growing used to it) and snuck her head between their two bodies so she could reveal the secret in a lower voice. "Sam is coming back."

Kurt gasped, his hands coming up to his mouth as he swirled around to face her just as she stumbled into Blaine after the abrupt movement. "When? Why? Who told you?" He gasped again, now fanning himself. "Is he going to declare his love for Mercedes? Or Quinn? Or Artie?"

"Artie?" Blaine asked. "Sam was gay?"

"No," Rachel answered before Kurt could, not wanting to go down that road with him _again_. "Noah said Mike got a text from Sam saying his family was moving back and he'd be here Monday." She bit her lip anxiously. "Do you think he'll join New Directions or Shelby's choir?"

"We need him after losing Santana," Blaine pointed out.

"Why didn't you text him?"

"I did," Rachel grumbled. "I got caught and then Mrs. Tiller took my phone before I could read his response." She turned her attention to Blaine. "_And_ I have detention this afternoon."

"You're going to miss rehearsal."

"I know," she bemoaned. "Not all of it, but I know." The warning bell rung and she sighed again. "I have a meeting with Ms. Pillsbury during my free period. I'll tell her then."

"Why are you meeting with Ms. Pillsbury? Is it something about NYADA?"

"I don't believe so," Rachel calmed him quickly even though she didn't have any answers. "But I'm not the only one having a suspicious one-on-one meeting today. If you see Finn before I do, please tell him I am no longer in possession of my phone but I want to know what happened during his meeting with Coach Bieste."

"Sure." Kurt accepted Blaine's hand squeeze before the latter left so he wouldn't be late to his class, which was down the hall and upstairs. "Anything else, First Lady Berry?"

"Will you please stop being mad at me already?" She pouted, following him as they moved to their next class. "I've apologized a thousand times and baked you at least a hundred cookies."

"To which I ate three and my stepbrother and father plowed through the rest." Kurt sighed, fixing his hair a little with his hands. It was spiked today and Rachel thought it made him look older. "But you're right. If we can't even be a united front inside our own team, then how are we supposed to inspire others to join?"

"Do you think Sam is a possibility?" Rachel questioned again, knowing he didn't have the answer but just wanting to hear what someone else thought.

"Maybe." Kurt shrugged one shoulder. "Mercedes didn't say much about their breakup, so I'm not sure if it was amicable or not." They walked into the classroom and took a seat at the lab table they shared with two other classmates. "I still think Dave is our best chance right now."

"You honestly think he'd join glee club?" She scrunched her nose; reformed or not, she couldn't picture Karofsky singing and dancing with them. "He's slushied _all_ of us."

"He's different now."

She made note of the soft tone he used, but didn't get a chance to ask about it as the bell rang and the teacher started his lesson. She already had detention later and she wasn't entirely sure what she'd say. For being her best friend, Kurt was somewhat of a mystery to her lately. His interaction with Blaine seemed much more domestic than it had previously, and his relationship with Dave was practically secret but obviously close. He wasn't talking to Mercedes really either because of her attitude, and him and Finn were growing closer and closer everyday even though Rachel never witnessed any real reason why aside from them now living together.

It all seemed to point toward what Rachel was coming to understand more and more as the days passed; everything mattered more this year than it did in the previous ones, but Rachel wasn't sure if it was because they were older or because there was a time limit. She figured it was a mixture of both in glee, as they'd all learned a lot in the past two years and were all painfully aware that this was the last try for many of them. Unfortunately, glee had tangled itself in the intricate web of all their relationships and instead of holding them together, it was tearing them apart. Mercedes had left but Quinn had returned. They added the foreign exchange student Rory but lost Santana (again). Puck and Rachel were staying on Mr. Schuester's side, but each had some emotional investment in Shelby's success.

It was all so entirely complicated that it was exhausting; wasn't senior year supposed to be easy?


	2. Detention

**Author's Note:** You guys are completely, totally, and utterly awesome. Seriously. I can't thank y'all enough for the encouragement and support on this story, which is so much a work in progress that I only hope the dots start connecting soon. I've still got about five chapters in the bank and I'm working on more, but fair warning that the transition from Finchel to Puckleberry is going to be as realisitic as possible (read: slow). Hopefully what I got in store in the meantime, however, will keep y'all entertained enough that you'll keep reading (and keep reviewing)! So, again, thanks!

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><p>Puck strolled into the windowless room in the library where detention was held, unsurprised to see Rachel already sitting primly in the front row. He also wasn't surprised that she was the only one in the room outside of the detention supervisor, who he basically knew like family considering how much Puck used to get in trouble. You know, back in the good old days when he thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted and still make something of himself. Everything was easier back then, which probably should have been the first sign that he was fucked but he was too dumb to notice then.<p>

"Mr. Puckerman, if you'll take your seat we can begin." The supervisor, who was also one of the lunch ladies, noted their attendance on the sheet and marked the time. "You two are it for this afternoon, so please keep quiet and I'll return to release you in one hour. No bathroom breaks, no going to your locker for a book, nothing."

Rachel's mouth gaped open as the older woman just walked out of the room without further explanation, the only sound left in the room coming from the loud ticking clock hanging above the solid wood door. Her eyes shifted from the left and to the right, taking in her surroundings. She'd never been in this room, and given the ancient card catalog system in the corner and the archaic computer up front, she was pretty sure there was no reason to ever come back. It smelled like mold and she wasn't entirely sure the carpet used to be the color that it is now.

"Mind keepin' the wheels from turnin' so loudly? Some of us are tryin' to sleep."

She turned in her seat and noticed Puck was sitting in the back row, his head nestled in the bend of his elbow while both arms rested on the tabletop. She could see the defined muscles of his arms even in the distance, and she blamed the supposed dark tan of his skin on the shiny white fabric of his football jersey paired with the fluorescent lighting overhead. His Mohawk was growing more and more unruly with each passing day, so long now that Rachel inwardly giggled at the thought of what his reaction might be if she were able to grab hold of the short strands and pull.

"Your laser stare ain't helpin', Berry."

She bit her lip. "Shouldn't you at least whisper?" Rachel turned back to face the door for a moment before looking back at Puck. "She said no talking."

"She also said she ain't comin' back for another hour." Puck lifted his head, sighing as he switched positions so his feet rested on one of the chairs across from him and his back pushed into the hard chair. "And it's Friday so she probably won't even do that."

"You mean we'll be trapped here?"

"Nah. We'll just leave." He shrugged casually, folding his arms across his chest. "I'd leave now but this gives me a chance to nap before the game."

In spite of herself, Rachel smiled. "I imagine your sleeping pattern has been dramatically altered now that you are actually attending your math class."

Puck lifted one eye, the same side of his mouth also curling up. "The nurse legit came into my class last week 'cause she thought I'd transferred."

Rachel giggled lightly, biting her lip as she turned fully in her seat. "Speaking of transferring …"

"I didn't hear anymore about Evans, so don't ask."

"No, this has nothing to do with him." She frowned a little. "Well, it did at first, but now it doesn't." Puck closed his eye again, but she was undeterred. "I've been thinking about our predicament regarding the two choirs a lot lately, and I realize my worrying over which side Sam might choose is irrelevant." She had hoped that would spark his attention, but he remained completely docile. "As you know, our main struggle the first year of competition was the fact that we needed a minimum of 12 members, with an equal amount of boys and girls. Right now, Sugar's choir only has the three females so even with Sam they will be unable to perform."

"You're fucked without Santana." He didn't even open his eyes. He didn't even move. "Alls she gotta do is snap her fingers and that choir's gonna have every cheerleader and leftover football player."

"That's … that's … that's not fair!" Rachel cried out, as if Puck had any power to fix the situation. "I don't even understand why she left the group. Doesn't she care about Brittany at all?" Rachel's eyes widened. "You don't think she'll take Brittany, do you?"

"If she does you can count that leprechaun out, too." He heard her whimper and couldn't help but finally pry his eyes open, looking at her sympathetically. "I'll talk to San, but you might wanna think of another brilliant plan."

She nodded in determination, whipping around without another word to the front again and digging into her bag for a notepad and a pen. She feverishly wrote down each name of the current members in New Directions, with an asterisk placed by anyone who could be swayed to the other side. She also wrote down everyone in Shelby's choir, with an asterisk by everyone but Sugar for the same reason. Then, below that, she wrote down a few of the cheerleaders and the names of the football players who had helped them last year during the Thriller/Heads Will Roll mash-up. She also wrote down Sam's name with a question mark by it and then, hesitantly, wrote Karofsky's name with the same treatment.

Turning slowly, she smiled when she saw Puck wasn't sleeping but instead working on a worksheet for school. "Noah, do you think David Karofsky would consider joining New Directions?"

"Legit?"

"Kurt is under the impression that he could convince him to join, and he _did_ seem to enjoy performing even though he was a little uncomfortable with the damage to his social status." She bit her lip nervously. "Now that McKinley has taken a stronger stance against bullying, sparked by him of all people, perhaps he'd feel safer joining."

"I dunno." He shrugged, taking his eyes off the worksheet. "We could get him, but then could lose Blaine."

Rachel gaped at him. "You … you think …" She furrowed her eyebrows. She didn't know what he was thinking. "What?"

"Wake up and smell the pride parade, Berry. Karofsky's a homo." Puck went back to his history worksheet, answering the questions easily enough that he could carry on with this ridiculous and entirely girly conversation. "And he's hot for your bestie."

"But …" Rachel scrunched her nose, not even able to process that information. "Kurt and Blaine are perfect together. Have you seen them recently? They've never been happier, closer."

"S'cause they're fuckin'." Puck grinned at the sound of Rachel's swallow catching in her throat.

"Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes. Why did he have to spell everything out for this chick? "Porcelain and Bow Tie packed some fudge."

"You're revolting." She shook her head, disgusted by his words. "And you must be mistaken."

"I ain't." He sighed, folding up the now finished worksheet and putting it in his back pocket. "Dudes walk different after." He grinned. "So do girls if it's done right."

She scowled at his suggestive wink. "Kurt is my best friend." Puck didn't respond and she couldn't very well blame him since she hadn't exactly asked a question. "I know he's still upset with me, but … we tell each other everything."

Puck could see her world crumbling around her, and he was shit with emotions and girls crying, so he tucked the pen he'd been toying with back behind his ear and stood up. He took the seat next to Rachel, moving her notepad in front of him and scanning what she'd written down. He didn't want to talk about Kurt and Blaine, and he really, _really_ didn't want to talk about her and Finn (and the fact that she _wasn't_ walking differently) so he knew he had to distract her. And, with Rachel Berry, anything related to her career was always the perfect way.

"You actually wrote down that I could seduce Sugar?"

Rachel blushed but nodded. "It is my understanding that others feel she is quite attractive," she answered hesitantly, getting over the wave of melancholy and instead focusing on the task at hand. "I'm fairly certain you've done worse."

"I got standards," he defended on a growl, lowering his voice as he moved his face closer to hers. "And just 'cause I put up with your particular brand of crazy don't mean I wanna touch that thing with a ten-foot pole."

"It was just _one_ of the ideas," she finally answered, grabbing the pen from his ear and crossing it off. She poked her tongue out as she tried to replace the writing instrument, but it took her a couple of tries; she'd fumbled the first attempt when her mind flashed with the buried memory of how warm his skin was and then again when she realized how soft the skin behind his ear was. "But I think our best plan might be the sing off, then."

"Ya know whoever judges that thing ain't gonna let Sugar lose."

"Well, if that's true, then the same thing is just going to happen at Sectionals, too. So we might as well lose in a competition that doesn't determine if we get to move on to regionals and beyond."

It was Puck's turn to be shocked by something she said. "You would do that? Just … switch sides?"

"We _have_ to win this year, Noah. We should have won last year."

"Maybe if you hadn't stopped to suck Hudson's face off we woulda."

She rolled her eyes. "Noah, you know better than that. The songs were written the day before and the dance steps were created while we were waiting backstage." She blew out a determined breath. "Mr. Schuester seems to have his head in the game this year, but we can't take any chances. This is it, and there's nothing wrong with admitting that Shelby has some experience that might be valuable." He eyes sparkled into the next part. "If we won, we would perform internationally. Can't you just imagine?"

"New York ain't enough, now you want to conquer the whole world?"

Rachel's smile faltered, the light in her eyes dimming. "Wanting New York and getting it are two very different things." Her voice was low, almost wounded. "I've wanted a lot of things in my life, Noah. That doesn't mean I've gotten them all."

Puck ignored the thoughts about what she might want that she couldn't have, like a mother, or the things she'd wanted that she didn't _always_ get, like Finn. Instead, he was lost in the realization of just how alike they were. On the outside, they both portrayed themselves as these overly confident people, but anyone who really paid attention could see they were just overcompensating for everything they weren't so sure of. Like, why did his dad leave or why had she never had a mother? He couldn't understand why everyone picked Finn over him, and she internalized the fear she had that Finn would eventually leave her for someone else. Someone better.

"I know what you mean, but … look. You're sure as shit crazy if ya think you ain't gonna make it. Ya got the best voice and more talent in your damn pinkie finger than in this whole fuckin' school."

"Thank you, Noah," she responded genuinely, taken aback by his sudden declaration but feeling her heart soar nonetheless. "I know others blame my diva attitude on some concept that I'm fishing for compliments but, sometimes …" She sighed, not strong enough to finish that thought. "I've had a wonderful support system in my life, but I've also dealt my fair share amount of ridicule." She shrugged emptily. "It weighs on you eventually."

"I know," he answered gravely, earning a sympathetic look from Rachel.

"We've all noticed how well you're doing lately, Noah. It's nothing short of admirable." She wasn't sure why, but she felt comfortable rubbing his back in a soothing manner, as if the soft stroke of her fingers would assure him she was being honest but not patronizing. "And I'll make sure everyone knows you were only in here because of me."

Puck nodded dumbly. She had no idea how true that statement was, and she never would. He was still trying to convince himself it was just a symptom of something else, like being around Shelby more or how much he knew about her (and the real her because he'd seen the her the others saw and that one sucked). But so far he couldn't, and only could accept that he liked her. And he wasn't dumb enough to ruin his friendship with Finn (again), but also wasn't smart enough to stay away.

Rachel made him feel like he could be better, like he _was_ better.

"In fact, the way I understand it, I owe you."

He gulped and backed away a little, suddenly feeling hot. "I, uh …" He coughed into his lack of response, feeling dumber as the seconds ticked away. This was dangerous territory, and he needed to wade his way out of it, the faster the better. And, well, being an ass was pretty much his fallback technique. "I'll assume a BJ is out of the question since Finn won't stop bitchin' about not getting any."

Rachel felt a strong mix of emotions overcome her, anger and embarrassment at the forefront. She had thought she and Noah were having a pleasant conversation, the type of interaction she'd been missing since Mercedes hated her and Kurt wasn't speaking as openly to her as he used to (which really was getting old since he had ended up winning the campaign for senior class president). Her and Finn spoke about their days and plans for dates and such, but they never really _talked_. Everything she wanted to discuss with him was about the future, and anytime that topic came up Finn would shut down. They would usually end up just making out, which is why Noah's statement hurt more because she was under the impression that she and Finn were moving at a pace that both of them was comfortable with.

"Just so you know," she began, her voice wavering despite how strong she tried to sound, "I'm not a liar. I stand by what I said in celibacy club in sophomore year."

"Fuckin' hot."

"The difference is that men and women don't operate the same way," she explained, ignoring his crass response. "I can't just push aside all the other thoughts and concerns I have and just … give in."

"I was just jokin', B."

"But you weren't." She sighed heavily, slouching a little in her seat. "I know he's frustrated. We've been together for almost five months and things started out much quicker and more comfortable than they ever were last time. But …" She bowed her head, a catch in her throat. "I'm not going to have sex with him if that's the only thing he wants from me."

Puck groaned, holding his head in both of his hands. What had he gotten himself into? He just didn't want to say or do anything stupid that could ruin the balance they'd finally perfected and now he was like, the God damned mediator in the Finchel saga? How the hell was he supposed to give _either_ of them advice when inside all he was wishing for was them to break up?

"Finn loves ya."

"I know that. And I love him." She exhaled a deep breath. "But I also know that it takes more than love to make a relationship work. We each have to be equally invested, and if he's only thinking about lasting graduation and my mind is on the future, then that isn't fair to either of us."

"Finn's never been much of a forward thinker, though."

"Yes, I know." She evaluated him for a moment. "But, then again, neither were you." She smiled softly. "Things change."

Rachel and Puck stared at one another for a long moment, not in a particular creepy or even meaningful way, but they were both just lost in their own thoughts. Puck couldn't help but think about everything that had changed, and lament about everything that never would. Rachel, on the other hand, was wondering how someone could be so torn between wanting everything to remain exactly the same and still want so much to be different.

"Ms. Berry?"

Rachel's head snapped forward, her gaze focusing on Mrs. Tiller who was holding out her phone. Her eyes then moved up to the clock, and she realized her and Puck had stayed an extra fifteen minutes – and he was right; that supervisor woman never came back. She extended her arm forward, grasping the phone sheepishly and thanking the teacher. Puck had stood up and stretched before walking out behind Mrs. Tiller, but Rachel stayed seated and opened the message from Sam she'd wanted to read earlier this morning.

"So?" Puck asked from the doorway. "He in or out?"

"Out," she responded softly, pouting a little as she read and reread the message.

Puck sighed, his head resting against the doorframe for a moment before he looked back over at Rachel. She looked genuinely worried about the future of New Directions, and he couldn't blame her. Despite her hard talk about just wanting to win, the group was like a second home for many of them, Puck included. He didn't just want to win no matter the cost. The glee club was like a family and they needed to stick together, band together. And even though he wasn't exactly captain or even using his am-badass-ador status anymore, he had to try to help. And not just for her.

"I'll talk to San."

Rachel nodded blankly, finally standing to pack up her materials. She placed the strap of her bag over her head and across her chest, looking up at him with a pained expression. He looked determined to fix things, and she admired his ambition. It had been a delight watching him grow so much in the past year, his lewd comments and crass commentary still ever present but drowned out by his distinctive maturity. Puck was a fighter like her, and he wouldn't just stand back and let everything they'd work for fall by the wayside.

"You're a star."

He cocked one eyebrow up at her, an amused expression hiding his confusion. "I am?"

Rachel smiled shyly, stopping in front of him in the doorway and placing a gentle caress on his arm while nodding. "You are." His eyes flashed with an unknown emotion but Rachel just smiled wider before exiting the room entirely and heading out of the library.

"Ya gonna be at the game tonight?"

She swirled around just before the exit, nodding her head and pulling off as much enthusiasm as she could for a sport she didn't quite understand nor enjoy. "Go Titans."

Puck grinned well after she left the library, his weight falling heavily against the doorframe. He knew he was playing with fire, but now he was even more determined to prove just how much things could change. He wasn't just going to stop at picking up his grades and dominating on the football field. He could help out with glee and work on his college applications. He could be a better friend and a better brother and son and even a better employee. He could be the better man.

All he needed was her to believe.


	3. Late Night Talks

**Author's Note:** I'm doing my best to keep these updates coming fast since I know the chapters aren't too long, but they might slow down if I can't get further ahead in this little story of mine. I'll do my best not to, though, because I like rewarding you guys with new chapters since you're all being so AWESOME about leaving reviews. So, thanks!

I also want to clarify that I said this will be a slow progression because as you will notice, this is the third chapter but we are still on the same day as chapter one. So, you know. Slow but fast - as most change always is. :)

Hope that makes sense (and makes some of you feel better) and hope you enjoy! Thanks again!

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><p>Rachel opened the passenger door to Finn's truck, using the heavy metal to help hoist herself into the high seat of the cab before using both hands to shut it. She raised her arm behind her in search of the seatbelt, securing it across her chest and lap before turning to her left. Finn looked exhausted but happy, which she expected after the Titans' win over the rival team. However, it seemed like more than that, and since this was the first real opportunity she'd had to speak with him all day, she was going to make the ride from the diner to her house count.<p>

"I'm so very proud of you, Finn." She beamed over at him as the engine roared to life. "That last touchdown pass to Noah was absolutely exhilarating. _Everyone_ was on their feet cheering."

"Ya think?" He asked dumbly, a crooked smile on his face. "I was nervous at first." He peered over at her from the corner of his eye before moving his attention back to the road. "I didn't get to tell you because you were in _detention_," he laughed at her scowl but continued, "but that meeting with Coach Bieste? There's a college football recruiter in town. He was totally in the stands tonight and I guess he's going to be here all next week, talking to the people who catch his eye."

"That's _amazing_, Finn!" She squealed, practically bouncing closer in excitement. "If he came here that means he must already have his eye on at least one person, and I bet it is you!"

"It could be Puck." He shrugged unconfidently. "Or Mike or even Karofsky or Azimio. We're all seniors."

"Then why would Coach Bieste meet with _you_?" She nudged him in the arm. "This is incredible news, Finn. This recruiter could really help with your future. I've always known you loved playing football. It could be exactly what you need to get into the door of a school that otherwise might not have considered you. In fact, I was looking at schools in New York with football programs and I found …"

"Rach," he interrupted softly, a nervous lilt in his voice. His hands were tapping on the steering wheel while he waited at a red light. "The recruiter … he's, like, from a _specific_ school."

"Oh." Now she felt foolish. "I didn't realize." Finn didn't offer anymore than that, and Rachel knew she didn't want to know but she couldn't help but ask. "Where?"

"State."

She exhaled a shaky breath, feeling light-headed and slightly nauseated. She knew she was supposed to be supportive, knew that she didn't want to push him and the only thing that mattered was that he was happy, but she couldn't shake the sunken feeling in her chest or the painful echo of Quinn's words from last year. Finn himself had said it just a few weeks ago when she'd visited him at Burt's shop; he could see himself staying in Lima.

"Well, I'm sure this gentleman is just the first of many. Other recruiters will see your potential and come vying for your attention; I just know it."

"Maybe." He sounded flattered, but reluctant. "The thing is, State is kind of a big deal, Rach. Like, I've been a Buckeye fan since I was a baby. Seriously, my mom has a picture of me in a red and white onesie or whatever it is." He shrugged pathetically, pulling down the final road to her house. "And I've looked at the web site for what they offer … we could _both_ go."

Her eyes widened in reflex and she smiled wide only because she'd learned in science last year that it suppressed the gag reflex. She knew she didn't have one, but now wasn't the time to completely lose it, which is exactly what she'd wanted to do. Stay in _Ohio_? Was he insane? Did he not understand her at all? Didn't he know that her dream was to perform on Broadway and she wasn't going to accomplish it settling for some mediocre theater program at a state school nearly six hundred miles from the motherland?

"Isn't that what is most important? For us to be together?"

Her eyes softened even if her heart was pounding angrily in her chest. "We don't need to decide anything yet, Finn." She sidestepped the conversation as best she could, turning to her window to see the silhouette of her house as Finn pulled up to the curb. The light in her fathers' bedroom was on, but other than that the house looked vacant. "Right now we just need to focus on glee and making sure we make it to Sectionals and beyond."

"Sure."

She turned back to him, saw the disappointment in his eyes and tried to bite back the regret she felt for putting it there. "It's nice to hear you excited about the future, Finn."

He shrugged. "I sorta feel like this is the first time I've had a real shot at one."

"You've always had a shot." Calmly she leaned over and pressed her lips to his, letting them linger there for a moment before she pulled away. "You just need to believe in yourself the way I believe in you."

"You're the best, babe." He leaned away from the wheel and pressed a final kiss to her cheek. "Thanks for coming out after the game, too."

"I had fun." He laughed in mocking and she shrugged before joining in his amusement. "OK, it wasn't exactly fun watching you and Noah compete for who could finish a full burger the fastest, but even I can appreciate the value of male camaraderie."

"I totally creamed him."

His grin was so boyish that she couldn't help but laugh in response. "Yes. I believe the bacon slowed him down." She giggled more even though she knew Finn didn't know that Noah wasn't supposed to eat pork because of his religion but constantly did. She unsnapped her seatbelt and leaned forward once more for a quick kiss before grasping the handle of the door. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

He nodded and so did she before exiting the truck. He waited until he saw her door open before he pulled away, and she waited until he turned the corner before she completely went inside. She rested her weight against the door, exhaling deeply before her eyes traveled up at the sound of the top stair creaking. Her father Leroy descended the staircase, smiling shyly at his eagerness to check on her as soon as she was home.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Everything OK, Pumpkin?"

She nodded softly, though she wasn't really sure if she was telling the truth. Technically everything was fine, nothing had changed. And yet, deep inside her, Rachel felt like everything had been turned upside down. Worst of all, she had no idea how to fix _any_ of it.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Rachel squinted up at her father, seeing the concern in his eyes and wishing the next thing she was going to say wouldn't break his heart even if that wasn't her intention. "Yes, but unfortunately I think I need a woman's advice." She bowed her head, biting her lip as she toyed with her cell phone. The clock on the front told her it was later than normally appropriate, so she opted for texting the first and only name that came to mind.

"Promise to be safe?"

"Of course, Daddy." Rachel smiled brightly at her father, walking to the stairwell and lifting to her tiptoes while he bent down to accept her kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for being so understanding."

He smiled and ruffled her hair just like he's done since she was a little girl, and for a moment she realized she'd have to come back to Lima more than she let on because of how much she loved both her parents. She didn't have the option to just fly to New York and never look back like she said. Her fathers' encouragement would be partially the reason for her success, and she'd owe them for their undying support.

"I should only be gone for an hour or two," Rachel explained when her phone buzzed with a positive response. "I'll call if I'm running late."

She took the keys to her father's BMW from the glass bowl by the door and then exited easily since she'd never removed her coat or shoes. Typically Rachel turned the radio high not just because she was so obsessed with music but the BMW had an incredible sound system that rarely was utilized. Her father listened to NPR on the way to work and the way home, so whenever Rachel did get the car she almost felt obligated to blast the stereo. Tonight, though, the sound of her mind reeling was too powerful to even bother with the radio.

She had so much happen to and around her today, and now she was getting out of the car to speak not just to the one person who could help but another person who'd been constantly on her mind lately.

"Rachel, is everything alright?" Shelby asked before Rachel had even started up the front porch steps, her biological mother gripping a baby monitor and her bathrobe at the same time.

"Yes, yes. Everything is … fine." Rachel bit her lip self-consciously. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I know it is late and you have a child and …"

"Rachel," Shelby interrupted, her features soft. "You're not disturbing anyone. I'm just worried."

Despite the cool weather (and the state-of-the-art electronic device in her hand), Shelby left the door open a crack so she could listen for Beth even as she gestured to the top stair for her and Rachel to sit. Rachel had only made it to about the third step so far, and she was grateful for Shelby's innate understanding that the tiny brunette wasn't exactly comfortable in the situation even though she had been the one who called (texted). Bowing her head in reprieve, Rachel chose a spot on the opposite side of Shelby, a long exhale coming out before she decided on what she wanted to say.

"I'm afraid I'm having one of those cliché teenage girl moments where I need to speak woman-to-woman." Rachel shrugged before finally bringing her eyes up and over to Shelby. "And because of the circumstance, I thought you might be the perfect choice to lend an ear and possibly some advice."

Shelby smiled at the way Rachel chose her words and just the passion in which she did so (did everything) and nodded. "I'm listening."

"Well, as you know, it has always been my dream to go to New York and conquer Broadway. Since I was young I've had these goals in my mind, and I've worked every day of my life in order to meet those goals."

"But?"

Rachel sighed. "But, the younger version of myself didn't seem to take into account … anything else."

"Boys," Shelby supplied, a bemused expression etched on her face.

"Among other things, yes," Rachel admitted shyly. "In my head everything worked out somewhat magically. And, so far, I've thought it might actually work. That it wouldn't always be easy, but the hard parts would just be the silly things we laugh about later … at the Tony awards after party kind of thing."

Rachel blew out another heavy breath. "Finn doesn't want to go to New York. He hasn't said it, exactly, but I can tell. And now there is a football recruiter from OSU coming to visit McKinley and I've never seen him so excited and … _focused_." Rachel knew she hadn't really asked a question or perhaps wasn't even making any sense. Her mind was going a mile a minute and she felt her mouth was just trying to keep up. "I want him to be happy."

"But you can't be happy here."

Rachel opened her mouth to reply but then closed it quickly. Shelby had summed it up so easily that it didn't seem right. She wanted to believe that it was a choice, something maybe she wasn't trying hard enough to accomplish or at the very least consider. But, in such a short sentence said with such conviction, Rachel knew Shelby was right. In her head, the dream was being happy in New York. The man she envisioned was supportive and caring, of course, but he was also happy. He didn't follow her to New York just because he didn't want to lose her, and he wasn't there just to be by her side and have no real dream or adventure of his own.

"I feel like I'm being split in two," she finally lamented. "There is a part of me, one that sometimes feels so big, that loves Finn and can't imagine giving him up."

"Are you sure that's what going to New York would mean?" Shelby asked quietly, pausing only when the baby monitor sounded with a little noise before quieting again. "Long distance relationships are a lot easier nowadays considering all the technology you kids are exposed to."

It wasn't the first time Rachel had considered the option, so she already knew her answer. "I'm sure we could make it work if we wanted to, but it wouldn't be enough for me." Rachel blushed a little. "I'm a tactile person."

Shelby laughed in spite of Rachel's embarrassment, nodding her head in understanding. "Well, I'm sorry, honey, but it sounds like you already have your answer." At the still response, Shelby summarized everything Rachel had said with one final thought. "If you two are envisioning two separate futures, maybe there's no point to stay together in the present."

"Do you think that's the right thing, though?" She asked desperately, knowing only she could make that decision but wanting to hear someone else's answer. "Because I've gone over and over it in my head probably every day since nationals last year and the more I think about it, the more it just sounds … _selfish_."

"There's nothing selfish about putting yourself first, Rachel." Shelby reached her free hand out, tucking some hair behind Rachel's ear and smiling softly. "The important thing is making sure to find a balance for the rest of your priorities."

Rachel blinked a few times, lost in the feel of Shelby's comforting touch and processing her words. "Is that what you did?"

"No." Shelby smiled, resting her chin on the crook of her arm. "That's why I am able to give you such wonderful advice." They both giggled lightly, the laughter fading away to nothing but the soft chirping of crickets again. "You're a million light years in front of where I was at your age, Rachel. Your fathers raised you right."

"Thank you," she answered shyly, wondering what her dads might think of such compliment. They still weren't exactly pleased with Shelby's return into Rachel's life last year, and were certainly protective of the interaction already this year. "And I'm sure Beth will grow up to be equally advanced in whatever she decides to pursue."

"Jury's still out." Shelby shrugged, standing up as Rachel started to do so. "One day it is music, the next it is art."

"Yes, Noah said she's quite the finger painter."

Shelby's smile faltered slightly, her eyebrows knitting closely together. "You spoke to Puck? About Beth?"

Rachel cocked her head to one side. "Not … specifically." She started to panic. "Please don't ... he isn't telling everyone or anything. He just told me in a casual conversation one day. There's no need to punish him for divulging any …"

"No, Rachel, honey." Shelby shook her head, smiling again just to ease the young girl's mind. "I'm not upset. I'm just … _surprised._" She paused a beat. "I hadn't realized you and Puck were close."

Out of reflex, Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he wouldn't use those words, exactly."

She wasn't exactly sure why, but just that simple statement made her heart ache. Her mind flashed with a quick memory of sitting on cool bleachers staring out at the football field; she'd done the right thing and was rewarded with his harsh, nearly debilitating confession that the first real friend she'd felt she made turned out to be an illusion. And now, even as he spoke to her freely and they even hung out alone sometimes outside of school, she never could shake the feeling that it wasn't because of Finn or because he was bored or … for any other reason than he actually liked her.

Realizing she'd been quiet for a long moment, Rachel shrugged self-consciously. "He barely tolerates me."

"Oh."

"And, frankly, there are days when I can't even muster up the same amount of courtesy because he's so terribly crass or rebellious, but … he has his moments." She sighed happily, the sad memory from earlier giving way to more recent, clearer memories. "Much like I feel like two completely different people at times, I strongly feel there are two very distinct sides of that boy. Puck and Noah." She shook her head in amusement. "Noah is actually quite sensitive, loving even. He's so intelligent and talented and brave. Puck, on the other hand, is lewd and abrasive and so infuriating that you just hold your breath waiting for his next suspension."

Shelby laughed out loud at the description, shrugging her shoulders softly. "Perhaps you and Puck slash Noah have more in common than I thought, then."

Rachel scoffed; she _and_ Noah wouldn't use those words. "How do you figure?"

"It sounds like you both just need to find some balance."


	4. Don't Hold Your Breath

**Author's Note:** I meant to update this yesterday, but one thing led to another and ... yea. Plus, it's probably good that I didn't because I STILL have yet to write anything, so my chapter bank is dwindling. I think I'll have time tonight and this weekend, though, so fingers crossed for continued frequent updates!

This chapter won't be the most fun, but it's very much necessary and leads to a fast-rolling ball that I promise you'll enjoy. So cut me some slack! ;) Or, not. Either way, tell me in a review! Haha! Thanks so much!

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><p>Puck pushed out a hard breath as he completed a rep of the bench weights, placing the metal bar back into the holders before hinging up into a seated position. Exhausted, he lifted to his feet and moved to stand behind the bar, spotting for Finn as the taller teen took his turn. Puck's arms felt like Jell-O at this point and he really wasn't sure if he'd be able to help his friend should the weight slip and land on his chest or neck, but he tried to at least be motivating while Finn was working out. The kid's face was red and blotchy, though, and Puck figured this would be his last rep as well.<p>

"Ten," Finn forced out, straining to say the word let alone finish the rep. He remained on his back after the bar was secure, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tilted his head back a little to eye Puck. "You do this every Saturday?"

"Not this, but yeah, I come here and do somethin'." Puck shrugged, taking a seat at the machine that worked the pectoral muscles. "Chang and I sometimes do pick-up games of basketball. He's legit focused on his Julliard audition, though, so you could take his place."

Finn frowned a little, sitting up but his form slouching. "Mike's going to Julliard?"

"He wants to." Puck shrugged, deciding to do a cycle on the machine since they were just sitting shooting the shit anyway. "His pop still ain't very supportive, but … he's killer on the floor, ya know?"

"Yeah," Finn agreed, both knowing Mike was a big reason Finn hadn't fallen flat on his face during any of the dance routines this year yet. Or, you know, broken anyone's nose. "I just feel like everyone has it all figured out."

"Nah."

"Mike, Rachel," Finn began, not convinced by Puck's nonchalant dismissal. "Even you seem completely focused this year."

Puck chuckled sardonically. "Thanks."

"You know what I mean."

Puck nodded sympathetically, but his mind couldn't help but think back to the history worksheet he'd worked on yesterday in detention. He was still pretty much just doing homework because he had to and tried not to think about it much beyond that, but the lesson that day resonated with him too much to ignore. They were talking about people who changed the world with nothing more than being themselves and standing up for what they believed was right. Ghandi and Martin Luther King Jr. were obvious discussion points, but it was a quote by Nelson Mandela that Puck must have read at least ten times during the class period.

He couldn't remember it all still, but the part that was repeating over and over in his head was, "There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel unsure around you." That's exactly what he was doing right now with Finn and it was exactly what he'd done his whole life. He just let everyone assume he was a loser because that was easier than proving them wrong. He let himself be everyone's punching bag because he thought it was better that only he be hurt instead of everyone. But he was wrong.

"… I really just want to impress this recruiter. Don't you?" Finn finished up, not knowing Puck had missed the beginning of whatever he'd been talking about.

"I don't know." Puck shrugged, taking a deep breath for some courage. "Columbus is still a little too close to home for my taste."

"But it's _OSU_."

He said it like being a Buckeye was a kin to royalty, and Puck couldn't help but roll his eyes. He also couldn't stop thinking about the next part of that Mandela quote, which talked about how letting your light shine gave permission for others to do the same. And even though the last thing Puck wanted to do was push Finn and Rachel closer, he had to at least do the right thing. It was the new thing he was trying.

"I've actually been lookin' at some other schools," he admitted slowly. "There's this place in New York called Hofstra. They have a pretty good football team and they got easier admissions than NYU."

Finn's eyes opened wide, the shock evident. "I … uh … didn't know you were looking at New York."

"Not, like specifically," Puck backtracked immediately. Screw the quote. Nelson Mandela probably never had an insanely complicated love triangle to think about. "I'm looking all over. California has a few that look awesome, but I'd haveta go into porn to pay for it."

This seemed like enough to calm Finn's jealousy (that's what it was even if he wouldn't say it), the taller teen grinning along with Puck before standing up and heading toward the showers. Puck followed slowly, hesitant of where his friend's thoughts might be leading him to but curious nonetheless. Talking to Rachel about this kind of stuff was torturous on many levels, the big ones being her incessant rambling and the lovelorn look she had in her eyes the whole time, but Finn would be cool. He was a guy and feelings and shit wouldn't even be on the radar when it was just the two of them.

"Nationals was cool and all but … I don't know." Finn sighed, parking himself on one of the benches by the lockers. "I'm not sure New York is for me."

Puck saw how hard it was for Finn to say that, so he did his best to not sound like a complete tool at his follow-question. "Is it 'cause you're scared?"

"I thought so, at first. But now," Finn shrugged sadly. "I just don't see the point of wasting all that money going someplace I don't want to be in the first place."

"Have ya told Berry any of this?" Sue him, Puck couldn't _not_ ask. And Finn's drawn out sigh followed by obvious avoidance was pretty much all the answer he needed. "Dude, ya gotta tell her the truth. She'll only be pissed if you lead her on."

"I'm not leading her on," Finn defended quickly. "I love her. I want to be with her." He shrugged again, this time his voice not coming out as strong. "I just don't want to be with her _in_ _New York_."

Puck just shook his head, ending the conversation there before he said or did something he'd regret. Plus, it wasn't like anything he said to Finn would make a difference. The kid might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but Puck was pretty sure Finn knew why Puck was a little more invested in Rachel's well being than most. And the more he piled it on, the tighter Finn would hold on to her just to spite Puck, and that wouldn't be good for any of them.

"I gotta pick up Sarah from some art thing."

Finn nodded. "Yeah. I'm taking Blaine and Rachel home." His eyes moved to the clock. "Shit. They were done like ten minutes ago."

"Good luck with that," Puck said as his farewell, walking out of the locker room while Finn rushed out and down to the auditorium. He passed a few of the other people that were going to be in the musical, and even though he tried to enter through the back doors so no one would notice he was late, everyone looked right at him when the door slammed shut behind him.

"Uh, sorry I'm late."

"It's fine, Finn." Rachel smiled brightly from the stage, her voice carrying. "We were just discussing some alternate transitions from a few of the scenes." Rachel descended the few stairs on the side of the stage, thanking Miss Pillsbury, Coach Bieste, and Artie for their time and effort before moving to Finn. "Did you have fun working out with Noah?"

"I'm beat. And probably won't even have time to shower before I need to be at the shop."

"There's something incredibly sexy about the whole grease monkey thing," Rachel flirted, lifting to her tiptoes and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "I'll go get my bag and then we can be on our way!"

She practically skipped back down the aisle, heading backstage to grab her pink duffel gym bag before joining Blaine on his walk back toward the back and Finn. The two instantly started up a conversation about some college football game they were both missing right then, and Rachel toned them out instead to focus on those two dueling sides of her personality. After her talk with Shelby last night and the resulting hours of lost sleep, Rachel had felt more resolved than she had in a long time. Everything they discussed made complete sense, but then she'd talked to Finn and that part of her that couldn't get over the feelings she had for him reared its ugly head.

She loved Finn. She loved spending time with him and she loved what a good person with a beautiful heart he was. Just because they likely wouldn't have a future didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the present, right? It sounded selfish, but they were only seventeen going on eighteen. They weren't supposed to be thinking about happily ever after and beyond. They should be having fun, and she _did_ have fun with him. So why did that have to stop just because _they'd_ eventually have to stop?

"Finn, I have a wonderful idea for a duet for us at Sectionals." She ignored the look Blaine shot her as they all settled into the cab of Finn's truck. "Or perhaps against Shelby's group, if we go that route. I thought maybe we could start practicing it next week in glee, and then maybe rehearse together at my house next weekend." She bit her lip, ignoring the way her cheeks reddened and the feel of Blaine's eyes widening in surprise. "My dads will be away on business."

"C-cool," Finn faltered, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Sounds good."

Rachel beamed even as she turned to Blaine, who looked only amused by her happiness. Even with Kurt as her best friend, Rachel was still just getting to know Blaine. They got along well enough that they did fine in groups, but now that they were the leads in the musical, Rachel was spending more and more time with him. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, even if she was currently feeling a little jealous of the former Warbler; obviously with him and Kurt growing closer there is less room for Rachel and their previous bond.

"What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?"

"Kurt and I are going to the mall today and then a movie later." Blaine shrugged casually, not extending an invitation. "Tomorrow a few of my old friends from Dalton are going golfing before the weather gets terrible. I thought I might join."

"I didn't know you golfed."

"Just for fun." Blaine and Finn started to laugh, Rachel looking between them with a confused expression. "I nearly broke Finn's windshield a couple of weeks ago when we went out to the driving range."

"He blamed it on the wind." Finn laughed harder, barely able to shift the truck from drive to park as he pulled in front of the Hudson-Hummel house. The three passengers piled out accordingly, Rachel scooting to the driver side and accepting Finn's open-handed assistance. Once on solid ground, she merely kept her hand nestled in his and followed him into the two-story home. Both Carole and Burt were at work, but Kurt was sitting in the living room reading the latest issue of In Style magazine until he heard them enter the house.

"Dibs on the shower," Finn called out, bending down to kiss Rachel on the cheek before taking the stairs two at a time.

"You can use the one in my dad and Carole's room," Kurt offered to Blaine, who had tried to inconspicuously look at his watch as soon as Finn made his announcement. "Towels are in the linen closet before their door."

Rachel watched in fascination as the two exchanged a loving embrace, Kurt ending the intimacy with a playful smack to Blaine's rear end. She laughed along with them out of nervousness, following Kurt into the living room in reflex. He'd given up being bitter about losing out to Blaine as the lead, and instead of accepting one of the supporting roles was opting to follow his father's advice and started working on his own writing. She'd given him a pamphlet she'd seen at the place where she took dance lessons, as apparently there was a nightly writing class offered in the same building.

"For someone who consistently gags whenever Finn and I kiss, you two are becoming awfully adorable."

Kurt groaned, "I know," and then laughed.

"Is it just finally setting in that he changed schools just to be with you or … maybe … something more?" Rachel asked, feeling stupid even as the words were coming out. Usually Kurt was so forthcoming with information that she didn't even need to wonder what was happening in his life. He often told _too much_ information, so this was completely new territory for her. And, frankly, she missed the old days.

"He didn't change schools just to be with me," Kurt answered firmly. "He had his own reasons."

"Right." Rachel nodded her head, trying not to let that thought stick considering how relevant it was to her and Finn's predicament. "So the closeness must be caused by something else."

Kurt narrowed his eyes on her, making her fidget. "What do you know, Broadway?"

"Nothing," she squeaked, blushing. "I _may_ have heard something, but it can't possibly be true because … well, because I thought you told me everything." She saw the shame cross through his bluish green eyes. "Right. OK. I'm … I'm going to wait for Finn upstairs."

"Rachel, wait," Kurt called out, rounding the couch and grabbing the tiny brunette's hands in his. "You're still my best friend." She looked up into his eyes, tears in hers. "I'm not mad anymore. It's just … personal." She nodded dumbly. "We haven't told anyone, which leads me to question who told you."

"Noah had a hunch," she answered quietly, shrugging one shoulder pathetically. "He says boys walk different afterward."

For whatever reason, all the tension in the room gave way to uncontrollable laughter, the pair giggling like two school girls all the way until Finn came downstairs and caught them embraced in a tight hug. Rachel told Kurt to have fun with Blaine, adding with a wink that she meant at the mall. However, given that the house would be empty for at least a few more hours, Rachel couldn't help but wonder how easily their plans might change. And, deep down inside her, she wondered why she wasn't as eager to change her plans with Finn.

"You're going to be late if you take me home, Finn." She said as he pulled out of the driveway. "Why don't you just take me to the shop? Then I can make you all some lunch since you didn't have time to eat."

His stomach growled on cue and they both smiled. "You really are the best, Rach."

"I try," she answered offhandedly, though it was actually true. She tried her best to be perfect at everything, and being a girlfriend was no exception. People (Noah) made jokes about her and Finn dating again and again, but Rachel felt she'd learned valuable lessons at every instance and only now was she really mature enough to understand the work that goes into making a relationship last – or know when it shouldn't.

Finn pulled into one of the back parking spots behind the garage and hopped out. He waited by the bed of the truck for Rachel, grabbing her hand and walking inside with her. Burt immediately chastised him for bringing his girlfriend, noting that the shop was slammed and they didn't have time for them to be making out. As soon as Finn mentioned that Rachel was going to make everyone lunch, however, the protests quieted and everyone let her go into the break room to work her magic. She was halfway through preparing enough sandwiches for everyone with the ingredients she found in the refrigerator when Puck strolled into the small room.

"Ya finished handling my meat, Berry?"

Her eyes lifted in exasperation, falling down eventually to gaze into his eyes. "You may take one on the end, Noah." She watched him immediately grab a sandwich and take a bite that would have been at least three of hers. "I'm only making enough for everyone to have one, so you might want to pace yourself."

"Sokay. I already had lunch," he admitted with his mouth full, shoving in another bite. "How was rehearsal?"

"It went very well, thank you." She stopped making the sandwich, looking at him curiously. Had Finn asked her how the musical was going? "Finn said he had fun working out with you."

"Did he?" Puck questioned, swallowing a bit too much just so his next question would be spoken clearly. "Did he say anything else?"

"Such as?"

Puck stared into her eyes, seeing her searching him and knowing Finn hadn't said anything. "Nothin'."

Rachel squinted at him, but then sighed and went back to finishing up the lunches. "I did speak to Kurt, though." She smirked even though her head remained down. "Seems you were right."

"Toldja."

"You know, your self-righteous attitude is a bit tiring sometimes, Noah."

"Back atcha, babe." Puck winked, lifting up the last bit of his sandwich in thanks before walking back toward the shop. Finn was already working underneath one of the cars, so Puck moved his foot below the car until he hit the creeper and then pushed it and Finn forward. "Berry is almost done makin' the food."

"I'm starving," he announced before standing up off the rolling device and moving it to the side.

"You might wanna get in there before Burt, then." Puck grinned. "And Tommy, but that's more 'cause he likes scammin' on your girl."

"Yeah. You're probably right." Finn sighed, walking over to the sink in the back and washing his hands free of the dirt he'd already managed to get on himself. "She told me that he creeps her out." He smiled as he dried his hands on the dirty towel hanging out of one of the overall pockets. "You, she said, she can handle."

"Please," he scoffed. "No one can handle this."

Finn's smile grew impossibly wide, his head turning to the left and then to the right to make sure no one was around before he dropped his voice. "I think I might be _handling_ Rach next weekend."

"What?" Puck asked before his throat closed up, keeping the sandwich he'd just devoured down.

"We were driving home and she said something about rehearsing a song this weekend and that her dads would be out of town." He was like a little boy waiting for Christmas. "That sounds like girl code, right?"

Puck tried not to scowl at his best friend, but the way he was gloating without even knowing he was doing it was really annoying. Plus, his voice was all high like a chick and Puck wanted to make fun of him but couldn't because he could barely think straight let alone talk. And he couldn't even walk away and punch something because he wasn't even sure what he was most upset about; whether it was Finn for planning on going through with it even after all he'd told Puck earlier that day or whether it was Rachel for setting it up in the first place. It wasn't rational and he knew he couldn't pull the territorial bullshit, but he was also mad that Rachel would even consider doing it with Finn when she'd told him in detention _yesterday_ that she wasn't just going to give in.

Seems like she was singing a different tune now that she'd talked to Kurt and realized she was the last one standing (so to speak).

"I already ate, so I'm gonna go outside for a sec." Puck waited until Finn started walking toward the break room before he moved to the back door, forcefully shoving it open. He leaned against the cool exposed brick, his hands clenched at his sides and his jaw set in a hard, straight line. He felt his teeth gnashing together and a headache forming behind his eyes. The rest of the day was officially going to suck.

"You men are like animals."

He turned his head and saw Rachel standing near him, a playful disgusted face etched on her otherwise soft features. "Wait until you screw one of us." He sneered, "And I hear ya won't be waitin' long."

Rachel gaped at him. "Wh … How … I don't see how that's any of your concern."

"Yeah." Puck heard the challenge in her voice, and he wondered why she would even subconsciously go there. "I guess it ain't." He shrugged. "Just seems kinda desperate."

"I'm not seeking your approval, _Puck_." She lifted her chin higher, her hands poised on her hips. "But if _Noah_ would like to talk about this civilly, I'll be home later."


	5. Clean Slate

**Author's Note:** I'm super excited to post this chapter because I think it really is the beginning of a major turning point (though it has and will continue to be subtlely done). It is kind of short, but hopefully you'll agree that it packs enough of a punch that y'all won't mind!

I finally got a few more chapters written, and hope to have some more time to write later today to see if I can finally piece together when/how/where this little story is going. In the meantime, though, I cannot thank you all enough for the awesome reviews! Seriously. Totally cool of you guys! So thanks and enjoy (and then keep telling me what you think!)!

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><p>Puck grumbled as he bypassed being hit by a passing car while crossing the street, his hands deep in his pockets and his head sagged low. He was walking on autopilot and strolled up the front porch steps and knocked on the door without even realizing he was doing it. That wasn't to say he hadn't intended to come to her house, but the way it had happened so innately sort of gave him pause. He'd known everyone else in town for a lot longer, and yet <em>this<em> is where he showed up when he just needed to get away, needed time to think.

"Puck? She questioned, her brows furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I know it's kinda late, but I had a real shi—cruddy day and I …" He sighed. "I dunno. Kinda just wanna hang out with someone who doesn't completely suck."

She smiled in that way that was too much like his mother and Rachel mixed in one, but stepped aside so he could enter the house. "I just put Beth down."

"Oh." Puck stood awkwardly by the door, his brilliant plan shot to hell. "My bad."

"It's fine." She smiled again. "You actually just missed Quinn."

"Oh?" He felt like a damn parrot. "She doin' OK?"

"She's much better." Shelby gestured toward the living room and he followed her to the couch before taking a seat along with her. "I guess she had some breakthrough in therapy today, so that's a good start."

Puck nodded because he wasn't really sure what else to do. He and Quinn would always have a bond, but they weren't exactly tight anymore. And she wasn't really talking to him after he ratted her out to Shelby and Mr. Schuester a few weeks ago, even if she might be starting to see that he was right. Blondie was downright off her rocker, though, especially if she thought Puck was going to help her in her stupid, ill-advised plan to get Beth back. He was glad she was getting the help she obviously needed, but he knew it would be a long time before Quinn would ever be better.

"It's nice having her in the choir, but she definitely misses you guys."

"Yea, right."

"I'm serious," Shelby laughed. "My choir is definitely lacking in eligible bachelors like yourself."

Puck fought with the knee-jerk reaction to slide closer to Shelby, learning to squelch his prowling reflexes. It was still something he still did consciously, but he figured eventually it would just be something that happened naturally, just part of growing up. "Look, I ain't gonna say I haven't done it before, and older and uglier for sure, but …"

"Puck," Shelby stopped him almost immediately, her hand lifting up to add a gesture for him to stop talking. "You're way off base." Her tone wasn't icy, but it was definitely stern. "If it weren't for Beth, I wouldn't even allow you in my house. And I know I'm not your teacher or exactly an authority figure in your life, but I'm old enough to be your mother."

She didn't look old enough for it to be true, but she looked too much like an older version of Rachel for him to ignore. "I'm actually nine months older than Rachel."

"Then I'm old enough to be _both_ your mothers."

She was really laying down the law and if Puck was paying enough attention he probably would have felt embarrassed for even thinking that she was hitting on him. "Well chick could use some motherly advice, let me tell ya."

"More?"

"More?" He repeated, confused by her question.

"Rachel stopped by late last night needing advice." Shelby smiled at the memory. "She called it one of the cliché woman-to-woman talks."

Puck grinned, too, only because he could actually _hear_ Rachel saying that. He often berated her for talking too much and saying too little, but that wasn't always the case. The chick was super smart and ambitious and that kind of stuff seemed to rub off onto other people. She could inspire the glee club to sing a certain song or just give it their all on the stage. She made people believe in themselves, believe in what they could do. Even if you didn't always understand what she was saying because of her vast vocabulary or just because of the sheer velocity of her words, you knew it had to be right because _she_ believed in it.

"And I know this might not be my place, and I know she's dating Finn, but … she seems to have a soft spot for you."

Puck turned his head to face Shelby more squarely. "Ya talked about me?"

"You're name came up and I hadn't realized you two were close."

"I wouldn't say that."

Shelby laughed out loud. "She thought you might say that." Her laughter died down, but a smile remained on her face. "She also warned me that you might suffer from a split personality, Puck versus Noah."

Puck groaned. So _that__'__s_ what she meant earlier in the shop. "So what was your advice?"

Shelby's smile gave way to a more inquisitive look, her eyes searching him for a moment before she calmly answered, "I told her that she needed to find balance." Her gaze turned softer, her voice level but penetrating. "You both do." Her hand came out to rest on his jean-clad knee. "You obviously use Puck to keep people away, and only those close to you see Noah." It wasn't a question, but a statement. "You just need to figure out which you want more."

Puck moved his eyes off her hand to her face, noting the knowing look she tossed him and just nodding. Shelby didn't need to say the words for Puck to understand her meaning, but he didn't exactly have any answers, either. "What if it ain't my choice?"

"I think you have more to do with the decision than you think."

He considered her words and wondered just how much his name had come up in her and Rachel's conversation. It sort of gave him hope that it had come up at all, but then he remembered how he'd treated Rachel earlier and realized he might have dug his own grave. Luckily Beth started to get fussy and Shelby had to go tend to her, so Puck didn't have to make some lame excuse for why he was suddenly leaving. He had definitely come to respect Shelby and confide in her probably more than he should, and he was pretty sure that extra closeness would make his next stop that much more transparent.

And, like a bout of déjà vu, Puck climbed the stairs of the Berry house and knocked on the door, not really remembering how he got there even if it had been his destination all along. Rachel's dad Hiram answered the door, Leroy sitting on the couch in the background while some movie was on pause. Puck made small talk with her two fathers and did the right thing and apologized for stopping in unannounced and so late, but they brushed him off and told him Rachel was upstairs in her room studying. In any other of his friends' houses he would have figured that was code for anything but – he'd once said that to his mom and snuck out his bedroom window for the entire weekend - but when he tapped on Rachel's door and then pushed it open enough for him to peek his head inside, she was sitting at her desk with a math book open and a notebook out.

"Ya know it's Saturday night, don'tcha?"

Rachel turned around slowly, her expression unwavering as she evaluated his presence. "Does Daddy know you are up here?"

He nodded. "I still think it's kinda fucked up that you call him _daddy_. He's like six, five."

"Finn says the same thing." She sighed, dropping her pencil down on the notepad and turning toward him more. "He's still terrified of him even though I have sworn he is just a big teddy bear."

"Yeah, a teddy bear with a gun and a shovel."

Rachel rolled her eyes, knowing part of that was actually true. Neither of her fathers owned a gun (and she imagined there was probably a shovel in the garage but she wasn't sure), but they had made a similarly worded threat to Jesse the first time he came over. They said something to her about making sure she didn't do anything with Finn that she wasn't comfortable with, and Rachel could only imagine the talk they were going to have later once Noah left. Both her fathers obviously knew Puck from temple, but it was also impossible to live in Lima and not know a few things about Puck's reputation, too.

"What are you doing here?" She finally asked. "It's late."

"I actually need your help with somethin'." Puck shuffled his feet anxiously, keeping his eyes on the ground as he spoke. "Turns out, you aren't the only one jokin' about my hair. Ma has been on my case about it gettin' kinda long for awhile now, so I was thinkin' it was time to buzz it."

Rachel furrowed her brows, standing up just because she couldn't sit anymore while he was fidgeting so nervously. "You don't just want to get it trimmed?" She stepped closer, looking at his hair instead of his face. "You remember last time, right? You sort of _wigged__out_ about your reputation sans Mohawk."

Puck grinned at her choice of vernacular. Even when she was trying to sound like a regular teenager, she managed to miss the mark by about three years. And it wasn't like she didn't have a point, but then again it was part of the reason he concocted this whole idea on the walk over here. It was symbolic or whatever.

"I used to do a lotta things that I don't anymore." He shrugged casually, finally lifting up his eyes and waiting until she met his gaze before finishing his thought. "I've learned to only care what the important people in my life think."

Rachel blushed at the unsaid compliment, a bashful smile crossing her face before she nodded and walked out of the room. She knew her fathers had a hair trimming kit back from when Leroy had wanted to grow a beard (and Hiram _didn__'__t_ want him to). She came back with the razor and a towel in her hand, her head nodding toward the private bathroom to the side of her room so Puck would make his way inside. She followed closely behind, wheeling her desk chair in front of the sink and pointing for him to sit.

In complete silence, Rachel wrapped the large towel over his shoulders and then placed another smaller towel inside the sink to catch the hair. She gently pressed his head back to a reclining position and flicked on the razor. She squealed at the loud sound it emitted, Puck chuckling at the second high-pitched sound she made after the first cut. He closed his eyes while she worked, and didn't even complain about how long she was taking to cut basically a two-inch strip of hair because he knew she was a perfectionist and it was totally his head (literally) if he pissed her off.

"There," she announced merrily when she finished, turning off the razor and unplugging it from the wall. She blew on the head to remove any stray hairs, and then tried to do the same for the tiny strands that had landed on Puck's skin but it didn't work. "One second."

Puck opened his eyes and she was gone, but then she reappeared with a tall plastic cup in her hand. She carefully removed the small towel of hair from the sink, holding it above the tiny trash can by the sink and letting the hair fall away from it before she tossed the cloth in the hamper. Next she turned on the faucet behind him to fill the cup, and then proceeded to rinse his head and neck with the warm water. It was too reminiscent of another time in their history for him not to capture the moment, so when she was leaning over him to reach the other side of his head, Puck lifted his hand to rest it on her right hip and pushed her down to sit on his lip. He let his touch linger there just as it had that day in sophomore year, and he could see the memory floating through her eyes, too.

"Don't do it."

His voice was gruff and _so_ Noah that Rachel almost hiccupped into her response. "Why not?"

He knew he couldn't give her the real reason, they both knew it. But he couldn't keep himself from lifting his hand higher and moving some of her bangs away from her eyes. The gesture alone forced her head back upright, her gaze honing in on him just as his was on hers. And, silently, they both seemed to say more than they ever would with words and came to some sort of agreement. About what, neither was really sure, but whatever it was gave them each enough confidence to part at Rachel's front door knowing that if anyone questioned the fact that Rachel and Puck were close, both of them probably _would_ use those words from now on.

"Pumpkin," Leroy began hesitantly, "Do we … I mean … are you and Finn still … together?"

"Yes, Daddy." Rachel smiled brightly at her fathers.

"So we have no reason to worry about that boy?"

Rachel placed her hands on her hips, her once wide smile fading to a stern expression. "That _boy_happens to be a good friend of mine, someone who has been there for your daughter when many other people were not."

Her immediate defense of Noah caused both her fathers to look at each other warily and then back at her with a shocked expression. Rachel simply sighed, knowing they probably would never understand. Much like she struggled to show people that she wasn't always so rigid or demanding, not many people knew how to separate Puck's reputation from Noah's personality. She smiled shyly; only the _important_people.

"We just don't want you to do anything you might regret, honey," Hiram tried to amend, always the first to smooth everything over in the rare instances the small family disagreed.

"I won't," she answered quietly, a pang of guilt circling in her stomach. She wasn't lying, but that was part of the problem; she _should_ feel at least a little guilty about what had transpired between her and Noah. Rachel knew it wasn't all innocent, and there were a lot of connotations in just the few words that were spoken between them. However, she didn't regret any of it, and maybe that's what she felt guilty about. "I'm going to go call Finn."


	6. Differently Similar

**Author's Note:** I figured you'd guys would need some Puckleberry love after last night's episode, so I thought I'd update this today even though I'm yet again falling. There isn't MUCH interaction in it, but hopefully you'll enjoy it nonetheless.

I really want to take this time not just to say thanks for the support (I always say that, and I always mean it), but to also mention that a lot of things are falling OUT of place with this story as they are in the show. Just a few off hand, Karofsky does still go to McKinley, and Puck is NOT in the musical. The first one was intentional, but the second was my mistake. I knew the football guys had danced with Mike and such, but I didn't realize they were going to actually be IN the musical. So, my bad/my own creative licensing (as if that weren't already obvious from all the other changes I'm making). :D

Now, without further ado ...

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><p>Rachel walked confidently into the front entrance of McKinley High, her head held up high as she started toward her locker. It was November and the weather had certainly changed from cool to cold in Ohio, but Mother Nature didn't cause the icy feeling in the hallway. Instead, it was a symptom of her and Finn's current relationship status, which was still together but clearly strained. She'd called him Saturday night just to talk and it somehow snowballed into their first real fight as a couple – this time. Apparently someone had told him that Sam was coming back to McKinley and when he found out she knew, he accused her of keeping it from him. Then, maybe just in retaliation, Rachel berated him for sharing too <em>many<em> details, specifically about their personal plans for the weekend.

They didn't talk all yesterday, and now it was Monday morning and the school was all-abuzz with the pair's quarreling. Honestly, she loved Kurt and she was happy they were getting back to being where they were before the whole class president fiasco, but he was the biggest gossip in the _world_. Whether he tears apart the choirs or not, Rachel couldn't wait for Sam to show up; in fact, it might have been the first time in her whole life she didn't want to be the center of attention. She wanted the spotlight on _anyone_ else, and the reappearance of the blonde surfer lookalike was as good of a distraction as any.

"Hey," Finn said gently, leaning against the metal lockers in front of hers.

"Hey," she mimicked, peering at him from behind her dark hair. She was still switching out the books she'd taken home for the ones she'd need before lunch, and the task kept her busy enough that she didn't feel the need to fill the silence.

"I'm sorry. You know, about everything."

Rachel finally looked up him completely, her eyes searching his. He looked genuinely remorseful, but she didn't know if he was sorry he yelled at her or sorry they were fighting. "I just don't understand why you were so upset," she admitted. "I wasn't being malicious by not telling you that Sam was returning."

"I know." He breathed out a heavy sigh. "This OSU thing has just got me a little crazy."

"Sam's a junior," Rachel reasoned. "Even if he did want to join the football team, the recruiter, at most, is only going to make note of his potential."

"I know," he repeated. "That's why I'm saying sorry."

Rachel sighed, relenting. "I forgive you." She lifted onto her tiptoes and met his bent position to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. She couldn't very well be mad at him for confiding in Noah about them potentially taking the next step when she'd basically propositioned him in front of Blaine. "Now let's put this behind us and focus on what Sam's return might mean for New Directions." She pulled some sheet music from her bag. "I've printed this off for you, and I'm hoping we can start rehearsing the duet this afternoon. As co-captains, I feel it is important for us to lead by example and …"

"Actually … babe …" Finn was hesitant and Rachel held her breath in anticipation of what he was going to say. "I sort of asked Kurt to kind of take over as Glee co-captain."

But nothing could have prepared her for that. "Y-You what?"

"I'm really trying to focus on football right now, and between trying to pick up my grades and glee and everything … I just thought it would be better for the team if he picked up the responsibility." His words rushed together, her heart slowing with each passing thought. "I'm still going to be _in_ glee and I'll totally sing with you and whatever." He shrugged. "I just thought you should know."

Rachel stared blankly at him, her heart barely beating anymore. She couldn't believe what he was saying. He was giving up. He was giving up on _them_. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even look at him, tears welling in her eyes. She always knew they were different. He was the star quarterback and she was the choir nerd, but she thought that was the great thing about them being together. They overcame all those stereotypes and all the drama and they worked together toward the same goal. Now … she didn't even know _what_ his goal was, but it didn't seem like it was even in the same book as hers, let alone on the same page.

"I need to go to class," she finally said, her voice robotic and detached. Her body went through the motions of getting to her first period, her eyes set forward as she waited for the bell but her mind a million miles away. She didn't even notice Puck take his seat next to her, nor did she hear the teacher announce the new student to the class, Sam.

"Hey, guys," he said in greeting after the teacher gave them a worksheet to work on during class. Rachel was still almost catatonic, which Sam noticed quickly. "Is she OK?"

Puck shrugged, not really having an answer. He wasn't sure why she was such a mess, but he knew it had to be more than the stupid fight he'd heard was going on between Finn and Rachel. In fact, he was pretty sure it was already resolved, which was good because one person said something that made it seem like it was partially Puck's fault. It wasn't necessarily out of the realm of possibility, but he was sort of sick of being the speed bump on the Finchel highway of love. Not to mention that whatever went down between him and Rachel Saturday night was implied to be personal and like, secret.

Aside from the haircut, which pretty much everyone had noticed – just like last time.

"So … you're back," Puck tried to make small talk. Tried very poorly. "You doin' glee? Or football?"

Sam shrugged. "I haven't really decided yet. My dad just got the word like, three days ago, so it's been kind of crazy." The blonde's eyes moved to the back of Rachel's head once more before focusing back on Puck. "I heard 'Cedes was in a different choir now?"

"Fall out." Puck shrugged. He sort of couldn't remember how it all happened. She was being a crybaby, blah blah blah. "When Rachel was talking, she blamed the new boyfriend. Guy is a beast on the field, though."

"Oh, he plays football, too?" Sam frowned.

"He's joining Shelby's choir, too."

Rachel's head whipped to the right, her eyes boring into the side of Puck's head until he turned. "He's _what_?"

"Mercedes convinced him to join. Apparently kid's got some pipes."

"Well that's just _great_." Rachel snatched her worksheet from the pile and grabbed a pen from her bag. She furiously began answering all the questions, much to Puck's and Sam's surprise. Puck couldn't even remember going over any of this stuff, but a quick glance at the top of the piece of paper showed that it was a review sheet. Fuck his life, he was going to have to actually study for this test.

"What else has changed since I left?" Sam managed to smile. "Other than your hair."

Puck glared but then couldn't help but smirk when he heard Rachel's light laugh. Instead of answering Sam' question, he leaned closer to Rachel, invading her personal space. Her smile faded and her breath caught in her throat, but he didn't back away. "Somethin' funny about my hair, Berry?"

Rachel giggled again, her heart picking up speed. "You don't _have_ any hair."

"How would you know?" He leered, wiggling his eyebrows a little for emphasis.

"You're disgusting," she avoided, her breath shallow as she spoke to him. He merely chuckled at her lack of a comeback, and she nudged his shoulder with hers to force him away even though she did it with a smile.

"Well _that__'__s_ different," Sam mused, leaning back in his seat a little. The last time he'd seen Rachel, summer was just starting and her and Finn were slowing building back up their relationship. "Since when do you two tolerate each other?"

Puck looked back to Rachel at the same time she turned to him, and they both snorted out a laugh. "S'recent."

"_Very_ recent," she emphasized with a giggle, going back to her worksheet even though, yet again, her mind had floated far from her body. This time it was mixing thoughts, trying to piece together how her life got so complicated so quickly. On the one hand there was her and Finn, who she swore were one of those _opposites __attract_ couples that would make it. They had worked too hard and dealt with too much to just become one of those insignificant high school couples you have trouble remembering five years down the road.

But, on the other hand, there was her and Noah, who also fit the category of two _very_ different people. Somehow, though, their differences weren't pulling them apart like it was her and Finn. If anything, it felt like their differences were bringing them closer, like they managed to balance each other out. And she wouldn't lie, either; she was obviously attracted.

"Rachel Berry, please report to the principal's office."

The announcement over the PA system stunned the class, everyone's eyes slowly turning to Rachel, whose eyes were wide and slightly confused. Panic rose in her chest, instantly thinking that one or both of her fathers were injured, or worse. She didn't even gather her things, but instead just sprinted out of the room, her vivid imagination getting the best of her in the short jog. By the time she'd rounded the corner and Principal Figgins' office was in sight, Rachel had concocted an entire scenario where she was placed in an orphanage and used song and dance just like Annie to relieve the pain and loneliness.

Just as she was wondering if Kurt would write a musical about her suddenly tragic life – where she would, of course, play the lead – two arms shot out from nowhere and pulled her into a dark, tiny room. Rachel wasn't exactly known for sneaking away to private areas of the high school, so it took a moment and the sharp smell of ammonia to recognize the room as the janitorial closet. The arms, however, were still a mystery, and Rachel wrapped her own around herself in fear.

"Hello?"

"Calm down, Hobbit," Santana sneered. "I ain't gonna cut you or anything."

"Santana?" She asked for further confirmation. Even if the vernacular was uncanny and the tone was spot on, Rachel couldn't be too careful.

"Who else would it be?"

Rachel shrugged even though she figured Santana couldn't see her; her eyes were starting to adjust and she could just barely make out the silhouette of the Latina. "What do you need?"

"I figured you'd be losing your shit by now about the whole dueling choirs thing, and then Puck came to talk to me like your personal bitch boy. _So_, I thought I'd let you in on the secret." There was a pause and then Santana lowered her voice. "I'm just screwin' with Shelby. Schue knows all about it."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, it's no secret that Sugar is freaking hot for Chad Landmann, which I totally don't get but whatever." She shrugged. "Brittany and I did some stuff in front of him, so he's totally going to court the psycho for three months, and said he'd even date her for six if we let him watch us go down on each other." She snorted. "He's dreamin', for reals, but it doesn't matter. We got what we need."

"And what is that exactly?" Rachel asked, actually _not_ understanding. There was so much information in that short statement – much of it she could have done without, by the way – that she honestly had no idea why Santana was telling _her_. They weren't friends and from what Rachel could gather, none of what she just said should matter to Rachel at all.

"Sectionals," Santana groaned. "Chad is going to convince Sugar to leave the choir, and without Sugar there's no one paying Shelby. She'll have to disband the choir, and then we'll all come back to New Directions."

"You spoke to Mr. Schuester about this?" There was an unsettling feeling in her stomach. "And he agreed to participate?"

"It was a compromise." She shrugged again, this time picking at her nails. Rachel couldn't see it, but she could hear the most-annoying sound. "Brittany and I originally planned on getting everyone to join and then ditch her _at_ Sectionals. Schue said that would be _unethical_."

Rachel wasn't quite sure what to say. She agreed that the original plan sounded completely vicious, not to mention so utterly embarrassing for Shelby. Unfortunately, the compromise wasn't much better, even if it did showcase the fact that Sugar wasn't cut out to be a star – as if her voice wasn't already doing that. And Rachel wanted to win, and wanted it to be New Directions who got their shot, but she didn't want to do anything to intentionally drive Shelby away. If not for her, than for Noah.

"What did Noah say when you told him this?"

"He thought you'd be happy." Santana sneered at her. "And, frankly, I'm not feeling the love when I'm basically saving _your_ ass."

"I … I appreciate the sentiment, Santana. But winning by default doesn't exactly feel very victorious."

"Yeah well, neither does losing." The Latina growled, stepping closer to Rachel. "I didn't even want to tell you because you're a terrible actress for someone who plans to dominate Broadway, but Puck said you'd be cool." Then Santana stepped back, her arms curling in front of her chest. "And what's _that_ about?"

"What's what about?"

"Why the fuck is Puck coming to me worrying about _you_?" Santana couldn't see, but Rachel blushed. "You're still with Frankenteen, right?"

"Yes."

"So you and Puck on the side?"

"No!" She shook her head vehemently. "Absolutely not." Her voice was firm, but then softened. "I wouldn't do that to _either_ of them."

Santana evaluated the tiny brunette, sticking with the defensive stance. "Good. I could care less about Nipples, but Puck is like a brother to me and if you even _thought _about fucking with his head, then I _would_ cut you."

Rachel wanted to be scared, knew she should be, but couldn't help but smile lightly. "You two are very similar." She always knew they were friends, but she never really stopped to consider why before. She just assumed it was because of their past relationship/promiscuous nature, but it was obviously more than that. "Very loyal." She shrugged lightly. "Unbearable more often than not, but have such tolerable moments that all the bad can be forgiven."

"This ain't no heart to heart, bitch," Santana snarled. "Puck asked me to let you know what was going on so you could stop pissing yourself, so I did. Now let's go before someone thinks we're sucking face in here." She lifted her nose in disgust. "Or worse, talking."

She shoved out of the closet first, Rachel following closely behind. The bell rang the next second and the hallways crowded with students, the feisty Latina engulfed by the crowd. Rachel did her best to shove through the throngs of classmates walking in the opposite direction, but her tiny stature wasn't exactly conducive to such attempts. But instead of muscling her way through the crowd, she felt firm but gentle, callused fingers curl around her elbow, moving her in the opposite direction of the classroom she was trying to reach.

"Gotchur stuff." Puck stopped beside some lockers, neither of theirs but rather just the set of lockers before Rachel had to go one way to class and him another. "Santana talk to ya?"

"How did you know?" She asked, accepting her backpack that had been slung over his shoulder. Absently she wondered just how much that killed him considering her bag was basically all pink.

He smirked. "Who do you think taught her how to make an announcement to only one classroom?"

Rachel smiled too, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She knew Noah and she knew he was the type of person who would sacrifice himself for others' happiness. He wasn't _always_ like that, but it was his nature deep down and she'd seen it more than the other side of him that wasn't as selfless. In fact, she hadn't really seen his selfish side since Beth was born.

"Do you honestly feel comfortable with what they are planning?"

"I dunno." He shrugged pathetically. "You said you wanted to win, right?"

"Yes, but …" She paused, sort of caught off guard by her next statement. "But not at the cost of your happiness."

Puck narrowed his eyes on her, trying to decide if she was the nicest person he'd ever met or the dumbest. "Legit, B." He shook his head, deciding it might be both. "Ya need to learn to trust people more."

"Excuse me?"

"S'weird, considering you two fuckin' hate each other, but you and San are like the same damn person."

"_Excuse_ me?" She repeated, even more confused now.

"Shelby ain't gonna just pick up and leave without this job." He lowered his voice, telling himself it wasn't because he didn't want anyone to hear about the plan and not because he wanted to keep this conversation with Rachel private. "S'not why she came back, ya know?"

"But …"

"You." She flinched at his firm but soft voice. "She's here for you."

Rachel watched Puck leave with her mouth hanging open, a retort of some kind expected but lost somewhere in her throat. There had been so much emphasis on Shelby's return and how it affected Quinn and Puck, and Rachel had done so much to pretend like she was too busy to even bother with how she was supposed to feel about it. And, frankly, she still wasn't sure. Much like she felt split in two when it came to Finn (or maybe her love life in general), ever since she'd gone to Shelby for advice Rachel had felt different about her mother's reappearance. There was something about Rachel's situation right now and how it felt so much like a precursor to what Shelby must have experienced before joining forces with Rachel's fathers.

It felt like she _had_ to give her mother a chance. Maybe not because they were so alike, but simply because they weren't all that different.


	7. Peer Review

**Author's Note:** No Puckleberry interaction in this chapter, but I think I finally had some insight last night on how this story might progress. And, maybe good news maybe bad news, it might end up being longer than I anticipated. So, buckle up and enjoy the ride as it takes off!

As always, I want to give a shout out to those reading and reviewing (especially those doing so anonymously and I therefore can't thank properly). You guys are totally amazing and so awesome that it blows my mind! And even though there's no Puckleberry in this update, I hope you still enjoy the nuances of what is moving the plot along and, either way, let me know what you think!

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><p>Puck strolled into the English class, taking his usual seat in the back and immediately lounging in his seat. The period right after lunch was usually the hardest for Puck, a time when he was either so tired he thought he'd pass out or so bored he was itching to be anywhere else but in a classroom. Unfortunately, neither of those were options for him anymore. He was taking <em>two<em> English classes as it was, his second semester junior level and his regular senior class, because of pulling those kinds of stunts last year. Falling behind in either of them wouldn't just mean another failing grade; it would mean no graduation, no future.

"This is going to be a long week," Quinn stated as she took her seat in front of him. "And did he lose his mind over the summer?"

Puck didn't answer, didn't even offer a noncommittal gesture in response. He knew what Quinn was talking about; it was the same thing Puck was sure _everyone_was talking about now (not the worst thing since that meant his haircut was already old news). And Quinn had a point. Sean could have easily eaten Sam for lunch when the blonde made some crazy declaration about getting Mercedes back during lunch. But that's not why Quinn was upset. And Puck knew that.

"I love her, of course, but … I just don't see them together." She shrugged casually, the straps of her frilly dress swaying slightly from the motion. "We made more sense is all."

"Yea, but ya cheated on him."

Quinn sneered at him but couldn't offer a biting comeback once the teacher shushed the class and asked them to begin their ten-minute free writing session. Puck's notebook was filled mostly with lyrics, both of songs on the radio and songs he was writing. Ever since Mr. Schuester got them into writing original music, Puck hadn't been able to stop and now he had at least six songs that were pretty close to being _something_. He wasn't exactly sure what, but he liked doing it and seemed pretty good at it; it was actually something he'd considered pursuing in college. He didn't exactly want to be a rock star (that would be sweet, but he's a realist) but he'd looked up some music theory majors at a few schools that seemed pretty cool. They'd put him on the right track to become a producer, which sounded killer.

Major badass status.

"OK, class, close your notebooks and get with your review buddy." The teacher waved a stack of papers out in presentation. "I finished looking at your papers and now you're going to look over them together."

Puck hated peer reviews, not just because Quinn was his partner but also because he hated showing people his homework. Rachel said it was because his Puck persona didn't like to appear smart, but Noah couldn't hide it. He accepted the compliment as well as he always did, you know, aside from the fact that he couldn't sock a girl in the arm. Unfortunately he couldn't put off the editing this time. They'd turned in the first draft of their papers last Friday and the second and final draft was due this Friday, and Puck knew he'd have to try to finish it sooner than later; there was an away game this week and he had a science test on Thursday and a history test tomorrow.

Legit, being a good student was _way_ worse than being a good person.

"He won't rule the school with _her_ on his arm," Quinn muttered as she turned her chair so they were sharing the same desk.

Puck rolled his eyes. "Ya ever notice you're the only one ever atchur pity parties?"

"Ever notice that you're an asshole?" She tossed back, ripping his paper from his grip while throwing hers at him. She immediately put her head down, one hand on her temple while her eyes moved across the width of the paper. Her red pen came out almost immediately, striking through something in the first sentence of Puck's paper. He didn't want to make the connection, but he knew she had always been really good at English and that was likely why she was using poetry to express her feelings to the counselor she was seeing.

She hadn't talked to him for about a week after he'd derailed her plan to get Beth back, but she was obviously starting to see the light. He wanted to be a part of Beth's life more than anyone, but he wanted to do it the right way. They'd given up their rights to be her parents, but lots of people are influenced by adults who aren't their parents. Both him and Finn looked up to Mr. Schuester in some ways (Puck didn't exactly want the guy's love life), and Rachel was always jabbering on about how Barbra Streisand was her hero. Maybe Quinn and Puck would never be mom and dad to Beth, but that didn't mean they had to be _nobody_.

"How's the counselin' goin'?" He asked quietly, leaning forward a little so he could speak as low as possible.

She glared at him, but her face seemed to soften; she could tell he was really interested in her answer, not just because she'd been acting crazy before but because they were kind of friends. He at least cared enough about her to force her into counseling in the first place (him and Shelby tag teamed her, actually). Plus, he was one of the few people she could talk to about the situation and know they'd understand.

"It's fine, I guess. Still kind of weird."

"Shelby said you were visiting on Saturday."

"I made them dinner," she said with a hint of a smile. In that instant, she seemed happy. But then, like a passing raincloud, her expression turned gloomy. "Do you … I mean … she told me Rachel had come to her the night before." She collected her thoughts, looking up from where she had been purposely keeping her eyes to avoid his stare. "I'm sure it is because Rachel has two dads and no mom, but … do you think Beth would ever do that … with me?"

Puck didn't like the seriousness of the conversation, and his knee-jerk reaction was to lighten the mood. "She's not even three."

"I don't mean now, idiot," she groaned, knowing Puck enough to not be deterred by his avoidance. For as much as he'd obviously matured in the past few years, he would always be a macho guy. "But, don't you wonder about it, too?"

"Sure," he admitted on a sigh, shrugging one shoulder. "I hope everyday to be a part of her life." Their eyes met for just a moment before they both had to look down, Puck's voice barely a whisper now. "Before, I was fuckin' pissed at you for just … _everything_. The things ya said 'bout me and then just makin' that decision by yourself." His jaw clenched. "And then I was mad at myself for not fightin' harder and … well ya know what happened."

Each their minds went to his stint in juvie; no one really considered his behavior to be anything out of the norm considering he'd been doing stupid stuff since he was eight and found a lighter on the side of the road; Finn had totally lost both his eyebrows that day and Puck still avoided hairspray out of an irrational fear. But, no one said anything about what happened last year, not even Quinn. Not even Rachel, though she was the closest since she'd left a plate of her apology cookies with his mother for him. They'd never talked about it, but he'd known she wasn't saying sorry for anything she did, but rather that she was just sorry for his pain.

"Now … I dunno." He shrugged again, trying internally to loosen up his own mood. "I see how happy she is and the connection she has with Shelby." He cleared his throat quietly, his eyes back on the paper as if he were actually reading it. "Ya made the right choice."

Quinn set the pen down on the desk, her hand reaching across to rest gently on his wrist. "We did."

Puck nodded softly. "Yea." He backed away, leaning into his chair deeply. A lot of people assumed him and Quinn were back together or on their way to a reunion, but that's not what he wanted. And it didn't just have to do with him wanting someone else, but more that he'd _never_ seen Quinn as more than … he didn't even know if friend was the right word. They were closer now because of everything they'd been through together, but his infatuation with her hadn't stemmed from anything of the sort. She was hot and like a piece of forbidden fruit because of the whole chastity club thing. And then Finn got her and it made his obsession with tapping her a million times worse because Puck was the one who even put Finn on the map. They were friends and all, but sometimes Puck was really sick of how the tall teen seemed to get everything he wanted. And so easily.

"Plus, this way we can leave here and go to college and whatever and she'll learn that we gave her a good life so we could all have one."

Quinn's eyes opened wide, the paper she'd been holding in her other hand falling to the desk next to her pen. She gaped at Puck while he unknowingly edited her paper, not really marking much but rolling his eyes a few times through the first two pages; Quinn always went overboard when she was writing anything for school. It wasn't that she wasn't smart, but she just knew how to kiss ass even with her word choice and it bugged the crap out of him.

She let her eyes fall down to the dainty watch sitting on her wrist, noting the time as she picked up the pen and tried to work while talking. "It's weird hearing you talk about college." She smiled softly even though she never let her eyes leave his paper. "I think the only thing I've ever heard you say in regards to the future was either utterly disgusting or about joining NASCAR." She giggled softly, marking some punctuation on Puck's paper and then turning to the next page. "I'm pretty sure NASCAR is off the table since you just got your license re-instated and still don't have a car." She smiled. "So it must be a girl."

Puck rolled his eyes, lifting them up off her paper so she'd see the lack of amusement in his gaze. "It's not Mercedes, so you don't have to worry."

"Thanks," she answered sarcastically, shaking her head a little before reading another page – it was surprisingly clean. "I heard there's a guy from state here checking out the football players."

"Finn's fuckin' pissin' himself." Puck marked a typo and added a question mark by a sentence that made absolutely no sense to him. "Columbus ain't my Graceland, ya know?"

Quinn nodded. "Finn has always been a hometown boy." Her eyes shifted mischievously, the blonde rarely going down without a fight. "In fact, I told Rachel that last year, but she just refuses to admit she's wrong."

Puck picked his head up a little, looking at Quinn from over her paper. "She's for shit stubborn, but I think it's more that she just refuses to see mediocrity in _anyone_ she cares about."

"Oh," Quinn practically singed, her smile wide now. "Then she must _really_ care about you."

Puck narrowed his eyes, using all his intimidation to warn the petite blonde that she was stepping into dangerous territory. Even if Puck were the type of guy who'd actually sit in class and talk about his feelings for a chick, he certainly wouldn't do it to Quinn. She was way too slimy for his taste, using any and all information for her own devices as needed. Plus, she was his ex-girlfriend and baby mama, so that was just weird anyway.

"Your paper sucks," he said instead of answering her at all, tossing the stapled sheets of paper back at her.

Quinn rolled her eyes, not really expecting him to give in but pleased that she'd managed to get under his skin. "Yeah well, I didn't realize you were so into Nelson Mandela."

Puck shrugged. "Dude's cool." They'd had enough deep conversation for one day, so he again bypassed the seriousness with his patented ambivalence. "'Sides, I gotta do a paper for my history class next week and this way I can use the same one."

"So obviously you aren't applying to Yale, huh?" She joked.

Puck smiled, too, because this side of Quinn was pretty rare. She wasn't always a bitch. "I don't think they let my kind into Connecticut."

"You're probably right." She was almost thrown by the fact that he even knew where the school was located, but then remembered Puck was like the rainman of college athletics. She'd heard him last year recite every single division I collegiate baseball team and their location and mascot in a matter of minutes – the task ended when Mike had asked him the capital of California and he'd stared blankly at the Asian before everyone busted out laughing. "New York is likely much more liberal."

The ringing bell pierced through their conversation, ending that round with a win in Quinn's column. They even shook hands like they knew that's what had happened, and Puck didn't bother to try to get in a quick slam as they were gathering their stuff up. Instead, he just swung his bookbag – he'd been carrying his stuff around for months because he thought he'd lost it, but turned out it was at home under his bed; he'd also found a skateboard that he'd lost when he was ten and a paper plate with a sock stuck to peanut butter on it – over his shoulder.

"Puck!"

Both he and Quinn turned and saw Finn weaving his way through the crowd of students. He was the only one they were able to see over all of them, his frame towering over most of the freshmen he passed. Quinn's posture changed and she whipped some of her hair back behind her shoulder and Puck had to shake his head. Apparently she had a plan for forgetting about Sam not wanting her anymore, and that plan was approaching them with a panicked look on his face.

"Dude, I need your help."

"What's up?" Puck asked, wondering why the tall teen was out of breath.

"Bieste totally cornered me after lunch and said the recruiter wants to meet with me before practice." Finn sighed at Puck's blank stare. "I'm going to have to miss glee."

"So?" Puck asked. "Schue won't give a rat's ass."

"I'm not worried about Mr. Schue." Finn's eyes passed over Quinn for a moment before moving back to Puck. "I told Rach I'd work on a duet with her in the auditorium."

"She's gotta rehearse for the musical later. No big deal."

"No, this is important." He huffed out. "She's sort of pissed at me because I told Kurt to take over as co-captain."

Puck's eyes widened, realization coursing in his mind. _That__'__s_ why she was so pissed in first period. It didn't have anything to do with the fight he'd heard about, which turned out had nothing to do with what happened between him and her last night. _Whatever_ it was.

"So ya want her to be pissed at me instead?"

Finn's cheeks reddened. "There's only two periods left and I don't see her usually until glee." He shrugged. "She doesn't ever stay mad at you long."

"Yeah, isn't that weird?" Quinn chimed in, her innocent gaze doing little to hide the devilish smile.

"Not as weird as Sam picking Mercedes over you," Puck snarled, no longer playing nice.

"I think it's weird," Finn butted in, causing both Puck and Quinn to entirely forget about what they were covertly fighting over and focus on the tall teen. "What?"

Puck ignored the strange urge he had to ask more questions in regards to Finn's slip. He'd get another chance later after football if he cared enough, and right now he wasn't sure he did. Puck would never intentionally break anyone up (that hadn't even been his intention sophomore year with Quinn, really), even if they were less suited for one another than any other two people. He could hear the wheels in Quinn's head turning, though, and he wondered how long it would take her plan to form. He'd put money on mere hours.

"Look, I'll break the news to Berry."

"Awesome!" Finn patted Puck on the back. "Thanks, man. I owe you."

"It's no sweat," he brushed off, making use of his ability to ignore feelings by completely bypassing the strong pang of guilt he suddenly felt. Puck wasn't screwing his best friend over in the least, but he also knew he wasn't being the best friend he could be. His reasons for helping were selfish, but he couldn't ignore _that_ feeling. Besides, the only other option was for Rachel to be sitting alone in the auditorium until her rehearsal, realizing her boyfriend was never coming; that would be worse considering their relationship was already strained. This way, Puck was actually _helping_ Finn and Rachel last.

What the hell was he thinking?


	8. Ready or Not

**Author's Note:** OK. Clearly I made some people sad with the lack of Puckleberry, so I promise this chapter will make up for it. To those who reviewed anyway, special thanks for your awesomeness. I feel like a broken record lately, so I'm just going to remind you to review and then let's get right to the enjoying!

**Disclaimer:** Almost forgot, there is mention and one line of the song that started this whole story (thanks again, carrie4angel). It is "As Long As You're Mine" from the musical Wicked, and it will be showing up again, so let this serve as a sweeping disclaimer that even if you could sue me, it would be pointless.

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><p>Rachel sat at the piano, her usually perfect form slouched over the keys. Her hands were limp on the white plastic, randomly striking notes just to quiet the loud warning bells going off in her head. It seemed silly to be focusing so hard on the duet considering it was the most trivial thing in her life at the moment, but that was why it was important to her. She didn't want to be weighed down by all the other stuff. The power of song often made her feel lighter, not to mention helped clear her head. She wanted the music to heal her, to ease her mind and give her the answers to the million questions in her head, whether it was about Shelby, glee, her friends, or Finn.<p>

"Hey."

Or Puck.

"Hey," she answered hesitantly, confused by his appearance and his reluctantly to come closer. Usually he was so casual, so lackadaisical. And his idea of personal space was commonly a foot closer than hers was. "What are you doing here?"

Puck sighed, stepping further onto the stage. There were props leaning against the walls off to the side and a wardrobe rack half-filled not quite covered up by the curtain. He didn't really care, and was only noticing it all just to avoid her question. He knew the easy answer, but her question had more than one. He'd had two periods to convince himself not to come, but he just kept going back and forth. Ultimately, his decision ended when he realized he'd rather hurt his chances with being with her than hurt _her_.

"Takin' ya back to glee."

"Finn and I are working on a duet to present to the group next week."

"No ya ain't."

"Yes …"

"No," he repeated, finally moving his eyes to her. "Finn isn't comin'." Her face crumbled a little and so did he. Sometimes (a lot of the time) he still wished he could be a complete dick to her. "Which is somethin' new for him, trust me."

Rachel's face twisted from disappointed to disgusted. "You're completely vulgar."

He took the insult in stride, accepting the fact that his comment had fulfilled its purpose: distract her. Unfortunately, it didn't work long, her eyes falling down the same way the corners of her mouth had. She always looked too small to him (especially too small to have legs that seemed so long), but right then she looked fragile. Like if he walked over and pushed her off the stool she'd break into a million pieces.

So he walked over and sat next to her, just in case she lost her balance.

"He gave Kurt co-captain."

"I heard."

Rachel frowned deeper, her hands falling off the keys and to her lap. "This year was supposed to be perfect. The perfect love life, perfect friendships, perfect grades and activities." She sighed, her head turning to him a little. "Nothing's perfect."

He almost made the obvious joke, but couldn't muster up the strength to belittle her vulnerability. He'd never been the person people came to when they wanted to talk, and Rachel of all people should avoid him at all costs. But she never shied away, and he actually liked that. He liked feeling like she relied on him, even if it was just for a guy's perspective. He liked that she felt like she could trust him; it was a rare feeling he had in his own life, and Puck knew Rachel was just as guarded as he, if not more.

"Ma says that life's hardships make the good shit taste sweeter."

She smiled in spite of her mood. She knew Leah Puckerman from temple and she was quite sure the older woman hadn't used those words to teach her son such a valuable lesson. But, regardless, Rachel appreciated his attempt to provide some solace in her life, if only because it was quite adorable. Unlike Finn, who was probably a special case because Carole was a single parent, Puck walked a fine line between loving and hating his mother. And yet, Rachel knew from knowing him that he was actually quite protective of his mother and sister, taking the role as the man of the family ever since his father left very seriously. It was something she always thought he should show more because it was a very admirable and attractive quality.

"I'm not averse to working hard to get the prize at the end, but … the pot of gold just keeps moving further and further away."

"Brittany stopped believin' in leprechauns and now you're waxin' on about pots of gold?" He laughed lightly, his hands moving to the keys and fiddling with a few notes. "Maybe it ain't about the gold."

"It's not the destination, but the journey?" She questioned, a teasing lilt in her voice as one of her eyebrows quirked up.

He shrugged. "Nah. That sounds stupid." He ran through a run of notes, adding a soundtrack to his thoughts. "Like, maybe it's about findin' something else better nearby."

Rachel considered his words, wondered how true they might be. After all, as she had told Shelby, she'd spent her whole life anticipating her rise to fame. She never took into account the people she'd meet and the things she'd experience beforehand, and Rachel wouldn't trade any of those for anything. No matter what happened between her and Finn, she would always treasure the time they spent together. And the same went for the ups and downs of glee, and all the friendships she'd made and hoped would follow her on her way toward her dream.

"I understand," she finally admitted. "Sometimes it's just harder than I want it to be."

Puck nodded, his head lifting up simply because his neck was starting to hurt. He looked at the sheet music Rachel had poised on the ledge, his hands instinctively moving to the starting position and trying out a few of the notes. The beginning of the song was simple enough, but the notes got pretty complex as it progressed and he faltered on his first attempt. In his periphery he saw her smile at his determination when he immediately started again, and it made him mess up sooner.

"I often forget just how musical you are," she commented offhandedly. "How many instruments can you play?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Never counted." He hit her shoulder with his when she tried to play the piano, too. "How many songs can ya sing?"

"Touche," she answered with a smile, settling for just turning the sheet music for him as necessary. He made it through the entire song with only a few missteps. He started again and she simply watched him work through the entire song once more, helping him with the pages when needed but mostly lost in thought. Maybe she was being selfish; perhaps Finn did have too much on his plate and instead of being mad at him, she should be proud that he was responsibly prioritizing his obligations.

Maybe he was further on his way to finding his balance than she was.

"Are you busy this week, Noah?"

He stopped playing, his mind going back to his conversation with Quinn and how he'd been thinking about everything that he had to do this week. And yet, he responded with a quick shake of his head before his fingers took over playing again. He wasn't sure why he was so willing to free up his time for her (lie), but he wanted to hear what she was thinking. He was pretty sure he knew – Rachel Berry wasn't too hard to figure out, especially when sitting next to him on a piano bench looking at sheet music for a duet – but the girl had surprised him before.

"Perhaps, if you'd like, it would be better if you and I did the duet." She swallowed thickly, the cause of her sudden nervousness unknown. "Together."

"I don't even know the song," Puck admitted, his eyes glancing at the title at the top of the sheet music even as his fingers continued to play. A few more times and he might be able to play it without looking.

"It's from Broadway's _Wicked_," she started enthusiastically, giving him release dates and critical reception and basically an entire Wikipedia page of information he didn't need and didn't ask for. And yet, after hearing the whole story – a crazy love triangle; sound familiar? – Puck couldn't help but wonder if there was more meaning behind Rachel asking him to sing the duet instead of Finn. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"You gotta sing it first."

She smiled so brightly that he had to look away, not far enough that he didn't glance at her ass when she got up and walked to the front of the piano. She immediately went into professional mode, nodding at him to begin playing the song while she straightened her posture and lifted her chin. Her voice started out soft, even. He could hear it building up, though, and when she belted out the first word of the chorus, he couldn't help but smile and then join in as best he could with the words written for the male part.

Rachel's eyes twinkled when Puck began to participate, the strength of her voice catapulting to the next level as she circled back around the piano. She took her spot back by his side, helping flip the pages even as they blended their voices together. The lyrics required a certain amount of passion that Rachel could have faked because she was that good, but she didn't need to. She failed to believe it had anything to do with the boy sitting next to her outside of his talented voice, but when it came time for her to speak the last line of the song, it felt too real.

_It's just, for the first time, I feel … **wicked**._

Puck's breath was shallow, his fingers falling off the keys in exhaustion; it wasn't exactly easy singing a song he didn't know while playing it on the piano after _just_ learning it, especially not with a duet partner as strong as Rachel. He tilted his head to the left and noticed Rachel's head only a few inches from his. She was staring at him so intently that he felt some sort of gravitational pull toward her. Like he had to get a closer look to try to decipher what she was thinking at that moment. But, instead, things just got fuzzier, her thoughts (and his) like static in the background once he realized they were seconds from kissing.

Rachel's eyes closed in reflex, the feel of his warm breath on her skin giving her goosebumps. She inhaled unsteadily, her tongue swiping over her lips and her left hand moving off her lap and making contact with his jean-covered knee. That distinct smell the she associated with only him – a mixture of what she could only describe as soap and masculinity – wafted around her and she almost let it invade all her senses but the loud banging of the back auditorium door pulled her away.

"Hey," Blaine responded casually, finally visible once he got closer to the front and finally onto the stage. "What are you guys doing?"

Rachel looked back at Puck, whose eyes hadn't left her. She searched the blackened orbs of his usually bright hazel eyes, feeling him doing the same to her She wondered if the lust was as evident in her expression as it was in his before turning back to Blaine. And, if Puck's expression had been easy to read, Blaine's was _transparent_. He'd obviously seen everything.

"Noah and I are doing a duet in glee."

"We could use a boost," he stated innocently, pointing toward the backstage area where the cast had been throwing their stuff while they rehearsed.

Rachel recognized the gesture as a moment for her and Puck to talk privately, but she wasn't exactly sure what she was supposed to say. She had a boyfriend. No matter how bleak their future looked (even more so now), she cared too much about Finn to hurt him like that again. And because she knew Noah, she knew he felt the same way.

"Noah …"

"Let's not," he pleaded, his voice gruff even after he cleared his throat.

"It's just easier if …"

"I gotcha," he interrupted again, standing up from the piano. "Have a good rehearsal or whatever. I'll catch ya later."

Rachel sighed, watching him retreat without another word or glance back. It was easier that he left considering she didn't have an explanation for what almost happened, but she couldn't shake the empty feeling in her heart when he was completely out of sight. Unfortunately, when Blaine returned, she had to ignore it and instead work on making sure that whatever he saw wouldn't become public knowledge.

Because it was nothing.

"I can't believe the show opens this week," she started casually, testing the waters. "I'm more than prepared, of course, but it all happened so fast."

"I bet," he grinned, putting her in her place quickly.

Rachel looked down at her feet shamefully, her hands wringing in front of herself. Her mind kept replaying the moments prior to Blaine's appearance, wondering what would have happened and, realistically, how long it would have lasted. She'd never denied to herself the strange pull she seemed to have toward Puck – classic case of the good girl wanting the bad boy – but more and more she was feeling less like she was being pulled toward Puck and more like she was falling toward Noah. Falling _for_ Noah.

"I'm not going to tell anyone anything, Rach."

She looked up at him, her eyes sad but narrow. As she'd thought just as early as a few days ago, Blaine was a pretty new addition to her life. They'd never hung out without Kurt before the musical, but that wasn't because she wouldn't want to. He was nice, charming, and they had a lot in common. Rachel would never utter the words before with Kurt, but she imagined Blaine was the type of person people thought about when they said all the cute ones were either gay or taken. Or, in his case, both.

And from what she'd noticed, he had a really big heart. He cared so much about Kurt and his friends and being a good person; he was a lot like Finn, actually, and she knew if it weren't for Blaine's leadership skills and talent the two boys would probably be close friends. In fact, they seemed to behave as such before Blaine transferred to McKinley, as she'd seen them hanging out around the television enough over the summer – and by enough she meant enough that Puck almost always made some sort of joke about Finn switching teams.

"I'm not sure what happened," she finally admitted, her voice so far away that she worried she wouldn't be able to bring it back in time to practice.

"That's how it starts." He smirked and Rachel pushed away the thoughts that Blaine and Puck could probably be close friends, too.

"I love Finn."

His smile faded, his head nodding softly before he gestured for them to sit on the edge of the stage. "I know you do."

Rachel felt her heart breaking as she finally came to sit at the spot next to him. Her dress fanned at each of her sides, her hands immediately settling in her lap. It didn't seem possible for so much to change in such a short amount of time, and Rachel was terrified to accept that perhaps nothing _had_ changed. Finn had never promised her more than just this year, just as she hadn't either. And, well, there was a high probability that these sudden feelings for Noah weren't so sudden at all. Rather they were likely just finally surfacing after she'd buried them deep down inside of her.

"I think I'm safe to blame your obsession with music and old movies, but you need to stop thinking a break up has to be all bloodshed." Blaine bumped his shoulder against hers. "Sometimes, even if there are still feelings between the two people, they just know it isn't going to work."

"I know that."

"Well don't you think it is better that those two people part before too much time and effort and emotion is … wasted?"

Her breath hitched. She'd _never_ consider her time with Finn a waste.

"I'm not saying the relationship was a waste," he clarified after her wide-eyed response. "Any of them." She glared at him, but he just laughed. She was fun to pick on, even if he hadn't witnessed any of the drama Kurt so often gossiped to him about. "But maybe if you break it off this time while things are still good, then you'd only be taking the happy memories with you instead of all the emotional baggage."

Rachel's gaze softened, her head tilting a little as she evaluated him. "Why are you saying all this to me?" She questioned skeptically. "Shouldn't you have some sort of alliance with Finn seeing as how he's Kurt's stepbrother?"

Blaine took a moment to formulate his answer, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I never expected to fall for someone like Kurt. I always imagined myself with someone more like, well, myself."

She smiled even if she couldn't quite figure out what that had to do with her questions.

"But, even though he's sometimes impossible and we don't always see things eye to eye … it's our differences that seem to bring out the best in both of us." Then he full-on smiled, and she understood. "Ya know?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, bumping her shoulder against his in retaliation to his subtle arrogance. Stepbrother or not, Kurt had always been pro-Puckleberry and it should be no surprise that Blaine was on board as well. However, he did make some valid points (unlike Kurt, who would always point out the physical reasons Puck was a catch). Some, in fact, that Shelby had made late Friday night and Rachel had ignored until now. But maybe _that_ was the main point. Maybe she couldn't ignore what was staring her right in the face anymore.

The future was right around the corner, and she couldn't put it off or hide from it.

"Let's make some magic happen, people!" Artie announced as Miss Pillsbury wheeled him into the auditorium. Coach Bieste only came to rehearsals every other day because of football. "Blaine, Rachel, are you ready?"

Rachel looked at Blaine who lifted his hand up in invitation for her to answer. And with a smile and her mind on more than just the musical, she nodded and announced, "Yes. I'm ready."


	9. Dinner with a Side of Enlightenment

**Author's Note:** Thank _GOODNESS_ it is Friday, right? And if you had a tough day regardless, this chapter will hopefully cheer you up. I actually can't believe I'm posting it since I haven't finished the next one, but temperatures just dropped way low here so I think I'll have time to curl up with the laptop and write this weekend. :)

No matter what, thank you so much for reading and reviewing (see how I did that? Not even a question; I just know you'll do it). Haha. Enjoy!

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><p>Puck stepped out of the stream of water, a towel wrapped securely around his waist and his hand moving up to his head to shake the water droplets from the hair he still hadn't quite remembered was gone now. Football practice ended just a few minutes ago, but Puck managed to use those years of running extra laps for mouthing off and generally being an idiot to sprint past everyone else to rush to the showers. He had a standing date with Shelby and Beth every Monday night, eating dinner with them and trying to help with the nightly routine of taking care of a toddler before he'd sit down and do his homework for an hour or so before going home. It wasn't exactly a wild party, but it was one of Puck's favorite nights of the week – and that was saying something since it <em>was<em> a Monday.

He rounded the corner to the locker that held his bag and only slowed when he saw Finn sitting on the bench between the two rows of lockers. He wasn't exactly avoiding the tall teen, but Puck was still sort of reeling from what had happened in the auditorium with Rachel. Not that anything _did_ happen, but he wasn't dumb enough or naïve enough to act like something wouldn't have if they hadn't been interrupted. And, sure, he wasn't sure what it would have meant – to her, anyway; it would have pretty much meant one of two things for him, something awesome or something he'd really, really regret – had they each just moved an inch closer to the other, but no matter what it wouldn't be good to Finn.

"I can't concentrate with Mr. Cooter sitting on the bleachers the whole time." Finn sighed. "It's like he's just … watching me!"

Puck chuckled as he opened the locker. "He _is_ watchin' us, dude."

"I know that," Finn huffed. "It just feels like a lot more pressure now."

Puck shrugged, applying some deodorant under each of his arms before throwing his shirt over his head. He secured the garment in place and then carefully replaced his boxers without the towel riding up. Once he was covered enough that he was comfortable talking to another guy while changing, he turned his focus more on his friend. Finn was clearly debating saying something else, and the amount of time that passed before he opened his mouth again gave Puck the chance to put his jeans back on and almost finish redoing the buckle on his belt.

"Sam never showed up."

Wow. Two whole minutes and that's what he came up with? "And?"

"I just thought he would. Shane is on the team." Finn shrugged. "If Sam wants to impress Mercedes, he should be on the team, too."

"Weren't you _just_ pissed thinkin' about Sam comin' back and taking QB from you?"

Finn shrugged again. "Rachel was right. He's a junior." Just the sound of Rachel's name scattered Puck's thought process, giving Finn enough time to again merge into a different conversation. "Quinn seems pissed about him going after Mercedes, though."

Puck slowly finished doing his belt, his jaw clenching just to keep himself from saying anything without thinking. He didn't like the inflection in Finn's voice, though, and the thought alone was enough to get the tall teen in trouble. "Don't worry about Q. 'Nuf on your plate with Berry."

"Was she pissed?" Finn asked hesitantly, his face showing that he was ready for the brunt of his girlfriend's wrath.

"She ain't happy about the co-captain thing," Puck side-stepped, avoiding any indication that she might have been displeased with Finn but eventually came around. You know, after Puck lifted her spirits and they almost mauled each other. "What's that about?"

"It's just … too much. I really need to focus on football and getting my grades up and whatever." Finn sighed, finally standing up and shedding the last of his football equipment. "She just expects so much and I can't do it all right now." Then, hopefully without thinking, Finn said, "It's easier being Quinn's boyfriend."

Puck's entire body tensed, his rage going so far past controlled that he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop from ripping his best friend's head off. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?" He practically growled, his hands clenched in fists at his sides. Puck was usually a lot better about appearing indifferent, but his reaction at that moment wasn't a choice. It was a reflex. "Then why the fuck did you dump her? Was it just 'cause someone else wanted Rachel?"

"No!" Finn said defensively, his voice rising to match Puck's. "Rach and I …"

"You're friends!" Puck interrupted, fuming now. "You're good friends who think the other is hot. That's fuckin' _it_!"

Finn snorted, his voice leveling. "You're just jealous." Then, with a face Puck wasn't sure he'd ever seen on his friend before but one that quickly became his least favorite, Finn stared right into his eyes and said, "But is it because I have Rachel or because I like Quinn?"

Honestly, Puck didn't know the answer. He was pretty sure it was both, and for a lot of different reasons. Neither girl deserved to be stuck in the middle of Finn's sick game of tug of war, especially because Puck was sure Finn wasn't worth it. He spent so much time worrying about himself that he didn't even know how to have a girlfriend, and certainly not one of Rachel's caliber. Quinn was the better choice, Puck would admit, only because she'd eventually be able to train Finn. Rachel, on the other hand, would take all of Finn's imperfections in stride – that's what she _was_ doing.

"Fuck you," Puck answered instead, slamming the locker shut once he'd gotten his bag out. He pushed his way past another football player and then out the door, not really stopping to breathe until he was outside the school. The fresh air managed to calm him a little, but he knew it would take the entire walk to Shelby's to really cool him off. For the first time since he had his license taken away last year and then his mom took his truck, too, Puck was happy about having to walk; he didn't have a lot of time to spend with Beth and he certainly didn't want to waste it being pissed off at his supposed best friend.

By the time he walked up the steps to Shelby's house and knocked on the door, he felt like he could at least push back any residual anger until later - when his mind would no doubt wander back to what had happened in the locker room. And pretty much any that was left lingering on the surface immediately fell away when instead of Shelby greeting him at the door it was a younger but much more known figure. He'd memorized the curve of her face and body long ago, and was now really just starting to learn the nuances of her personality and her movement – one was much more graceful than the other, but that didn't necessarily take long to learn.

"Hello, Noah," Rachel answer with a wide but shy smile, opening the door more. "Beth needed changed, so Shelby asked me to get the door."

He walked in slowly and set his bag down by the door, still confused about her appearance regardless of her attempt to explain it. "What are ya doin' here?"

"Cooking," she answered brightly, practically bouncing past him toward the kitchen. "I'm still a novice when it comes to the more elaborate vegan meals, but I promise you'll be asking for seconds after you taste this dish."

Again, her explanation just seemed to confuse him more. But instead of questioning her, Puck's attention shifted from the kitchen to the hallway where he saw Shelby moving away from the bedrooms holding Beth. The little girl had a bright smile on her face, shaking a toy in both excitement and presentation as she squealed loudly. Her arms left Shelby's body and outstretched toward him and his heart soared the way it always did when she showed any affection toward him.

"Hey, baby girl," he greeted in a soothing voice, carefully taking her from Shelby's grasp with a grateful smile. "Whatcha got there?"

Beth more or less said the name of the toy she was holding before shaking it in presentation again. Then, with one arm still secured around Puck's neck, she pointed to the corner of the living room where the rest of her toys were kept and shouted in an attempt to get the two of them to that spot. He chuckled a little in response, tickling the girl's side as he walked over and placed her tiny feet on the carpeted floor. She immediately sat down and scooted closer to the tub of toys, grasping one of his jean legs and tugging down.

"Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes," Rachel announced confidently. "Why don't you two kids play while the adults talk in the next room?"

"Bite me, Berry."

She giggled at his immediate response, mostly because he'd said it in such a happy, non-threatening way so the tiny girl moving into his lap wouldn't understand the negative connotations of such a phrase. She wondered just how well Puck would be able to disguise his apparent love for certain choice words, not to mention his affinity for less than appropriate topics, if he were around a small child for more than just a few hours. Rachel already knew his little sister had been corrupted, even if she used the safer words like "freaking" to avoid getting in too much trouble. Honestly, Rachel thought that was probably worse because Sarah was only ten and that meant she not only had a long way to go, but it seemed like she might be smarter than Puck and therefore much more dangerous.

"So," Shelby began once they were back in the kitchen. "You had an epiphany?"

"Yes," Rachel answered, nodding her head as she stirred the contents of one of the pots. "Blaine and I were rehearsing and it just … hit me."

"That you and Finn aren't meant to date?" Shelby asked slowly, still trying to catch up with Rachel's thought process even though they'd been discussing it for the past thirty minutes or so before Beth needed changed and Puck showed up.

"Maria and Tony were willing to sacrifice everything to be together, not unlike Romeo and Juliet. They didn't care about feuding relationships or economic disparity or even the timing of _anything_." Rachel's eyes were wide, her words coming out fast. "They cared only for the other and that love powered them through everything else. It was the _cause_ of all their other decisions, and it is ultimately what saves the remaining members of _both_groups."

Shelby stared blankly at Rachel.

"How can Finn and I be soulmates if we can't put each other first?"

"I'm not sure …"

"And do you know what worried me most about this revelation?" Rachel interrupted, answering her own question before Shelby could even venture a guess. "I was concerned I would not be able to effectively portray Maria without knowing a love like that." Her hands came up abruptly. "Nothing about the potential ramifications regarding my relationship with Finn. _Nothing_."

Shelby sighed out a laugh, shaking her head slightly as she finally took a seat at the island counter in front of where Rachel was working at the stove. "You're very mature for your age, Rachel. It comes from your ambition, and I was very much the same way." Shelby let her head settle in the palm of her hand, her elbow resting on the countertop. "But it makes it very hard for us to remember that we still are very young."

Rachel nodded in understanding. "I'm actually grateful to have had the opportunity to consider all this so closely." She shrugged softly, turning back to the ingredients simmering in the skillet. "I think if I were to have found myself in this same situation while in New York … I'm not sure I'd be able to break the cycle."

"So that's what you're doing? Breaking the cycle?"

"Finn is a wonderful person. He has such amazing potential and is going to be an exceptional man with so much to offer someone," Rachel stated firmly, believing in her words so much. "But, I just don't believe we aren't meant to be romantically linked."

Shelby nodded, proud of Rachel for making such a tough decision. Then again, she was fairly certain the young girl had made the decision when she'd come over seeking advice a few days ago and nothing happened. There was more conviction in her voice this time, though, and Shelby couldn't help but wonder if it was all a result of the musical. And because she was a mother and a woman, she couldn't help but ask.

"So are you putting your love life on the back burner until after graduation or is there someone else in your life you feel might be better suited for your rising star?"

Rachel blushed and opened her mouth to speak, but then the unsteady steps of Beth were heard followed by a loud squeal when Puck came behind the small girl and picked her up. He flipped her upside down and ended by setting the child on his shoulders, taking the tiny fists on the top of his head in stride as he looked to Shelby and then Rachel and back again. Shelby's eyes honed in on Rachel's and she quickly turned away to focus back on the cooking dinner.

"So, Puck, Rachel said you two were performing a duet together." Puck nodded as he handed the little girl over to her mother. "I can only hope she's exaggerating your two's chemistry, otherwise my group is in for quite a surprise."

Puck shrugged. "You've heard Rachel. I'm just there to look good." He smirked. "Mission accomplished."

"You _do_ look better now that you've cut your hair."

Rachel giggled in front of the stove and Puck's eyes moved off Shelby to the back of the petite brunette's head. He smirked, mischief in his eyes, ignoring the fact that the woman closest to him was not just the mother of his biological daughter, but the biological mother to the girl he was about to tease. "If ya ain't puttin' on a Kiss the Cook apron, just keep your amusement to yourself, Berry."

"In your dreams," she volleyed back effortlessly, sticking her tongue out at him over her shoulder in an equally juvenile fashion.

"Every night, sweets." Puck chuckled only after Rachel and then Shelby began to laugh, Beth joining in just because she didn't know any better.

It didn't make any sense, especially considering his mood prior to arriving and just the fact that things shouldn't be so comfortable with Rachel after this afternoon, but the night ended up being one of the best. He'd thought it was going to be terrible, not just because Rachel kept distracting him, but because he wasn't exactly keen on sharing his one night with Beth. But Rachel was actually great with kids. In fact, she had forced Shelby to eat her dinner along with Puck while Rachel fed Beth a cooled down, muted version of the same meal – one the tiny girl seemed to actually enjoy. And, as per usual, Rachel was right; Puck had asked for seconds, and thirds.

After dinner, he and Rachel had played on the floor with Beth, Rachel being so patient when the tiny girl wanted to do the same puzzle over and over again. Once Shelby was done bathing Beth, Puck helped dress the toddler in her pajamas and then the three of them formed a makeshift band to coax the small child to sleep. It didn't take long considering Beth loved Puck's guitar skills and was as memorized by Rachel's voice as she was by Shelby's. Once she was asleep, the two teens worked quietly on their homework in the dining room while Shelby went through some sheet music and emails. Then, in plenty of time for her curfew, Rachel thanked Shelby for her hospitality, gathered her stuff, and asked Puck if he wanted a ride home.

He'd declined for no other reason than he was hoping to talk to Shelby about his conversation with Quinn earlier in the day, but as soon as Rachel left he could tell Shelby had a different topic in mind. She wasn't the type of person to butt in to other people's business, like his mother, so he knew she wouldn't voice her concerns or questions without being prompted in some way. Unfortunately, whether it was because he was really smart or just a coward, Puck didn't know which move was the right one; without knowing the topic, he wasn't sure what was safe to say and what wasn't. And, therefore, he thought it was best to not say anything at all.

"You two make a wonderful team." Silence. "I'm even more afraid for the duet now."

He should have known the topic would have been Rachel. After all, Shelby and he only had a few common points and Rachel, it turned out, was the biggest. "It ain't no big deal. I'm just fillin' in for Finn."

Shelby regarded him for a long moment, waiting until he squirmed uncomfortably before she spoke. "I think you're much more than that."

Puck shrugged, not wanting to consider if there were any truth to that statement. There was a chance that Rachel had come to Shelby tonight seeking more advice where a woman's perspective was needed, but that didn't necessarily mean it had anything to do with him. Nothing happened between him and Rachel in the auditorium earlier, so there shouldn't be anything for Rachel to need advice about. So it had to be something related to Finn, and frankly Puck didn't want to think about it. Just the sound of the guy's voice in Puck's head was pissing him off all over again, and Puck wasn't ready to talk about why he was having such strong feelings against his so-called best friend.

"I know it's hard, Puck." He looked up from the book he wasn't reading, his brows furrowing. Had he said all that out loud? "But you're doing the right thing."

"I am?" He asked as he stood to start packing his stuff. He was happy he'd kept his thoughts to himself, but he wasn't exactly thrilled to learn he might be a little more transparent than he hoped in regards to _other_ thoughts.

Shelby nodded. "Rachel is the kind of person who needs to make a decision on her own, no matter how obvious it might seem to others." She cast her gaze down for just a moment. "Your patience is very admirable, so thank you."

"I don't know whatchur talkin' about."

Shelby smiled softly, following him toward the door. "Yes you do." Her eyes were gentle and she recognized the way he lifted his duffel bag up around his torso as a subtle attempt to keep her away. "And it might not happen tomorrow or even next week, but she'll thank you, too, eventually."

"I gotta jet."

Puck offered Shelby nothing else but a small wave before walking backward out of the house and then hurriedly down the street. He wasn't exactly _running_, but he was certainly avoiding the situation. And it wasn't because he wasn't comfortable talking to Shelby; he was. She was like this neutral party who he could talk to about almost anything and she'd offer advice or simply listen without judgment. But this situation was too hard for Puck. Too new and too different and … and the more he thought about it, the more he had to accept that his feelings for Rachel weren't going away.

They weren't based on her smoking body or caused by his relationship with Shelby. It didn't even have anything to do with Finn or any sort of territorial behavior. They were feelings he'd never had before and ones he didn't know how to handle. They were strong and continued to get stronger, and he didn't know _how_ to talk about them. He could still barely say the word in just his head, but that didn't make it any less true.

He loved her.


	10. Easy Does It

**Author's Note:** This one took a little bit to write, and I'm not sure if it was because so much happens or not enough happens. Or it could be just because I am fighting off a cold with no medicine and couldn't find the strength in my brain to coherently write. ... It's probably that one. Either way, it is the start of something amazing, so I hope you all enjoy it and it tides y'all over for the holiday and beyond while I try to finally write actual chapters and not just tons of word vomit. :)

**Preemptive strike:** I tried to send a review reply to someone and fanfic said NO, so if that thing is broken again, I just want to say how much I really do appreciate all the feedback. It constantly blows my mind, and you guys always manage to make me laugh or think or, at the very least, feel pretty awesome. So thank you and enjoy!

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><p>Rachel walked into her fourth period AP English class, taking her seat next to Kurt with a wide smile. The fashionable teen merely rolled his eyes at his friend's exuberance, ignoring her to instead doodle in the corner of his notebook that was open. They'd already been warned that today would be a note day, as the class was covering the latest book they'd read – one they were assured wouldn't just be covered in the class test but also in the state exam. They didn't have to pass the advanced placement test to pass the class, but without a three or better they wouldn't earn the college credits the class was designed to give them. And, in Rachel's mind, that meant three credit hours she could be using honing her craft and becoming famous.<p>

"Is everything alright?" Rachel asked, knowing she couldn't have possibly done anything to annoy her friend already. They did share second period, too, but it had been a movie day since their teacher was sick. Shelby was actually the substitute teacher, and Rachel was pleased to feel nothing but indifference about that. She knew it was a long road before her and Shelby were friends – that was the only relationship Rachel felt comfortable with; she had two fathers who'd done a wonderful job at parenting and she didn't need a mother – but last night was definitely a turn in the right direction.

For maybe more than just her relationship with Shelby, too.

"Fine," Kurt answered shortly, his head resting on his propped up hand.

He _never_ sat in such a way because of what he said it did to his hair, so Rachel knew better. "I might be able to help."

"Please," he scoffed. "You've got your own problems, trust me."

"What does that mean?" Rachel whispered, the teacher setting up her laptop to start the PowerPoint presentation. "Kurt?"

"I wasn't supposed to say anything."

Rachel smiled softly even if she could hear the pain in his voice; if she had a nickel for the number of times she'd heard Kurt start a conversation that way, she'd be rich.

"He doesn't even know I heard him probably, but … Finn was talking to Quinn last night."

"Oh." She answered, blinking just once. "What about?"

Kurt shrugged. "I only overheard him on my way to my room. Blaine said it wasn't any of my business, but we're not exactly seeing eye-to-eye lately."

Rachel pushed down whatever feelings she was having about Finn and him contacting his ex-girlfriend to instead focus on her friend. "What's going on with you and Blaine?"

"Depends on who you ask," he answered curtly, both their eyes adjusting to the darkness as the teacher cut the lights and pulled down the projector screen. "He went golfing on Saturday with some of his friends from Dalton." Rachel nodded; she remembered him mentioning that. "Apparently there was this new guy there, and he was _all__ too__ obvious_ about his attraction for Blaine."

"Oh, Kurt …"

"Don't '_Oh, __Kurt__'_ me," he growled. "His name is Sebastian and he's … he's everything I'm not."

"How do you know?"

"He showed up at The Lima Bean yesterday when Blaine and I were there." There was so much disgust in his voice, which was strange because even when Kurt was talking about people he didn't like he _rarely_ let on that he didn't like them with his tone. Rachel likened it to his refusal to scowl because of the wrinkles it would create. "You should have seen him. I had my arm _around_ Blaine's and Sebastian _still_ flirted with him."

"Well, then Sebastian is the problem," she reasoned. "Not Blaine."

"I don't know. Blaine wasn't exactly stopping it." Kurt sighed heavily, slumping even further over his notebook (the one he was still doodling in even though Rachel had moved on to trying to carrying on their hushed conversation and take notes at the same time. Luckily she had read this book for fun back in middle school). "Sebastian invited us to this gay bar and Blaine said it wasn't _our_ scene, but I knew what he meant."

"There's a gay bar in Lima?"

"No. Just outside." Kurt shrugged. "We're going. Sebastian is making us fake IDs."

Rachel stopped taking notes, scrunching her nose a little. "I'm not so sure this is a good idea, Kurt."

"It is. I have to show Blaine that I'm not just some old fuddy duddy!" His voice was a harsh whisper, full of conviction. "I can be just as charming and suave and _whatever_ as Sebastian."

Rachel frowned at Kurt's display of determination, hearing how much he believed in his words but seeing how much they hurt to say. He was trying to be someone he wasn't, and she'd learned the hard way that he'd never be happy doing that. _They__'__d_ never be happy that way. Not just Kurt because eventually he'd resent Blaine for causing the change, but she knew Blaine didn't _want_ the change. He'd told her just yesterday!

"I need to tell you something."

Kurt sighed at the urgency in Rachel's voice. "Proceed."

"Blaine loves you."

"Rachel," he grumbled. "I don't need a pep talk."

"No, I mean … he told me." She scooted her seat closer to his, doing her best to keep her voice low and not draw attention away from the teacher's presentation. If she had to guess, Rachel would assume the only reason she and Kurt had gotten away with talking as much as they already had was because the two of them were not just the best students in the class, but also two of the teacher's favorites. "We were talking yesterday before rehearsal and … if you'd heard what he'd said, you wouldn't think twice about his feelings for you."

He tried not to, but Kurt's face gave way to a widening smile, his cheeks coloring and his eyes sparkling. "What did he say?"

"I shouldn't tell you." And much like when Kurt had said it, the next words out of Rachel's mouth contradicted the last. "But he said he loves the fact that you aren't the type of person he'd end up with. He likes that you two are different. He said it makes you stronger together."

"Like you and Puck?" Kurt asked, his glistening smile matching the twinkle in his eyes.

"He told you?" She gasped the question as quietly as possible, her mouth gaping open after the last syllable. Blaine had promised not to say anything about what he saw. Not that he _saw _anything.

"No." Kurt's smile changed from playful to wicked. "You just did."

Rachel glared so deeply she knew the dark room wasn't masking her anger at all. She could see Kurt's delicate Adam's apple bob nervously, his posture straightening while he moved his seat a foot or so away from Rachel's. Maybe it was because she was comfortable enough with Kurt or because she'd spent too much time with boys in general lately, but Rachel found her fist cranking back and then flinging forward. She made contact with Kurt's slim, pasty arm, her triumphant expression meeting his flabbergasted one. And she must have won because Kurt simply grabbed his arm and rubbed the sore spot a little before the bell rang and he promised to see her later at lunch.

Much later, it seemed, because she sat next to Finn at the beginning of the lunch period with neither Kurt nor Blaine taking their usual seats across from them. All the glee kids were in line for food or spread out at different tables for whatever reason, which wasn't unusual but unwelcome this particular day. Rachel hadn't been alone with Finn all morning, and the fact that their eminent breakup was circling around in her head made her uncomfortable in such a position – a fact that made no sense since she was hoping the preemptive strike to their relationship would somehow salvage their friendship.

"You're friends with Sam, right?" Rachel nodded at Finn's question, unwrapping the sandwich her father had prepared for her earlier that morning. Both her dads always spoiled her before going on a big trip; their own lessons on not being able to buy others' love falling on deaf ears when it was them on the receiving side. "Has he said anything about the whole Mercedes thing?"

"The Mercedes thing?" Rachel questioned, unsure what topic he was referring to specifically.

"You know. Why he is trying so hard to get her back."

"He cares very deeply for Mercedes."

"It just doesn't make sense to me, is all."

"You don't know anything about their relationship, Finn," she explained lightly. "You don't know what they shared."

Finn shrugged. "You don't have to stick up for her anymore. You guys aren't even talking."

"Yes, I know, but …" She frowned. "Can't you see the beauty in their union?" She pressed, desperation in her voice. "Two people who everyone else doesn't think fit; two people whose differences make them stronger together?"

Finn stared blankly at his girlfriend for a good thirty seconds, finally responding, "Like Sharon and Ozzy Osbourne."

Rachel sighed, a smile on her face even if she died a little inside. "Finn, I can't keep doing this."

"Lunch?"

"No … us." She frowned, wishing it didn't take that much to get his full attention. She hadn't lost sleep over her conversation with Shelby, or the earlier one yesterday with Blaine; not like she had after her first discussion with Shelby last Friday. Finally, the decision felt natural. Like it was just a matter of time, and not really a decision at all. But, _when_ was a much more delicate matter and Rachel certainly hadn't planned on the middle of the day in a room housing almost the entire school. Sure, she was definitely one for theatrics, but she'd grown past the stage in her life when she lumped personal matters under the same category as her professional ones.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, Finn, and … you were right. I _do_ know what I want. I know exactly where I want to go and I can't feel bad about it anymore. And it has nothing to do with you, which is part of the problem but also a big part of the solution." She let her hands move from the table to his knees, keeping her voice low and level. "Because even with how self-assured I am, the truth is I'm just like you, Finn. I'm confused about a lot of things, especially the future, and will probably make a ton of mistakes on the way. But, we're teenagers. That's what we are supposed to do."

Her words were running together the more she spoke. It was one of the first things she'd said without any practice or rehearsal, but she'd felt more powerful the more she said. For too long she'd been avoiding the truth, hoping something would change or there would be a sign that what she believed was wrong. But the truth was she and Finn should have never gotten back together at the end of last year. Not because they didn't love each other, but because their love wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for either of them to promise anymore than a year together, and if that's all they had to offer, then what was the point?

"We're supposed to make mistakes and call ex-girlfriends and fail tests and skip class and fall in love and …" Her throat clenched, the last part coming out as a whisper, "and fall out of love."

Finn looked shell-shocked, but not exactly heartbroken; honestly, he looked more disappointed in the fact that she'd learned about his phone call to Quinn. "You don't love me?"

"Of course I do," she rushed out, her hands moving again to grip his in between their two bodies. "But, it's not a good enough of a reason for us to stay together." She frowned a little, searching his eyes. "And you know that."

Finn nodded shyly, as if he'd been thinking the same thing for just as long as she. "We're still like, friends though, right?"

Rachel beamed at his patented goofy grin, hinging forward and releasing his hands only to wrap her arms around his neck tightly. "Of course, Finn."

Artie groaned as he rolled up to the table. "Can you two please stop?"

"Yea," Puck agreed with disgust. "Some of us are tryin' to eat."

"We'll try to keep the public displays of affection down from now on, Noah." Rachel smiled slightly, leaning away from Finn who still looked enough at ease that she didn't mind making light of the situation – a situation that just last year had rocked her to her core. "Now that we're just friends and all."

Puck stopped moving the large double bacon cheeseburger toward his mouth mid-bite, his eyes moving from Finn's to Rachel's and holding hers until she lifted one shoulder emptily. She smiled shyly at him and he couldn't help the way his smirk grew before he slyly winked at her and then shoved the food in his mouth. Rachel made some poor excuse about losing her appetite as a way of an exit, throwing away a bulk of her lunch before heading to her locker. She didn't exactly need anything for her next class, but it was clear the person standing beside the blue metal did need something from her.

"I'm not here to fight," Mercedes began after seeing the trepidation on her former friend's face. "I just wanted to talk."

"What about?"

"Everything." She shrugged. "Nothing." Both girls smiled softly, their mutual reluctance somehow lessening the tension around them. "I broke up with Shane."

Rachel's eyes widened, a million different thoughts going through her head at once. Ones like whether or not the decision was based on Sam's return, or random thoughts about today being the day for breaking up. It all led to about a minute of silence, and if Puck were there at that moment, he would have certainly made fun of Rachel. She was speechless in every sense of the word, and she was pretty sure he'd make a comment about never having seen such a thing. Frankly, Mercedes looked like she was close to saying something about it, too.

"I thought he was helping me be a better person, but he was just changing who I was." Mercedes smiled a little. "And, gurl, I like who I am."

Rachel giggled, breaking the spell. "Me too."

The two girls embraced in a long-overdue hug, squeezing tightly. Rachel wasn't going to apologize for winning the lead role in _West __Side__ Story_ or for calling Mercedes out when she'd made that completely irrational claim that everyone in glee kissed Rachel's butt. But Rachel was aware that she couldn't win nationals on her own, and the more diversity that was showcased in their routines, the more points they'd earn from the judges. Plus, not only did Rachel miss having Mercedes as a friend, it was also just _easier_ for their relationship to be solid when both were so close to Kurt.

"So we're friends again?" Rachel waited for Mercedes to nod in confirmation. "Are we teammates again, too?"

"Yes." Mercedes let out one of her classic belly laughs at the relief that washed over Rachel's face. "After I calmed down a little and got over my power trip, Santana told me the plan. And, gurl, we're too good to have to cheat to win sectionals."

Rachel nodded enthusiastically, whole-heartedly agreeing. She knew the move would have ramifications on Shelby's job, as she'd briefly saw Sugar with her new boyfriend, Chad, at lunch and could see at least part of the plan was already in action. New Directions might gain a few more members, but Shelby's choir was all but finished. She could still substitute at McKinley like she had been doing, but other than that she'd need to find another job. Deep down Rachel hoped it wouldn't be with another choir, but Mercedes' faith in their talent was inspiring her so much that she knew they'd be able to handle any hand they were dealt.

"Santana and Quinn are coming back, too."

"Well you picked a good day to return." Rachel smiled coyly. "Sam apparently prepared something for his re-audition."

It had been awhile since the two girls had spent any time together, but anyone who knew Mercedes knew she was a loud personality. However, when she was quiet – like she was just then – it was either because she was plotting or because she was embarrassed. And while Rachel couldn't see the black girl blushing from the corner of her eyes, she knew that tiny smile well enough to know that Mercedes was at least flattered by Sam's attempts to win her back.

"I heard," she finally mentioned, the small smile turning more devilish as they walked toward their next classes. "Tina told me Mike and Puck are helping."

Rachel's eyes widened a little, surprised by that new information. She'd spoken to Sam about his performance – he wouldn't reveal the song choice despite her constant badgering – during their shared first period, and Puck hadn't mentioned his involvement at all. He'd actually spent much of the science class reviewing a study guide for a history test he had the next period. She considered making fun of him, but she didn't want to discourage him from studying even if it was during another class.

"That's right." Mercedes hip-checked Rachel, moving the petite brunette closer to the hallway she had to go down opposite the one where Mercedes' class was. "Don't try to make me blush when I know just how to make your cheeks go red, sista."

Rachel put her acting skills to the test, feigning confusion even if there was a hint of a smile on her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, please," Mercedes scoffed, speaking even as she started walking away toward her class. "Just 'cause we haven't been talking doesn't mean Kurt hasn't been chirping in my ear this whole time about the possibilities of Puckleberry 2.0."

Rachel's eyes rose high in her head, clearly exasperated with Kurt's antics. See what she meant? _Easier_.


	11. Sexy Back

**Author's Note:** I honestly can't believe I managed to get this chapter done considering I put it off for the entire holiday weekend. However, it turned out pretty much exactly as I needed it to, which isn't to say y'all will love it but it is necessary to keep with the realism that I'm trying to achieve. So, please read and let me know what you think! And, as always, thank you oh-so much!

**Disclaimer:** The songs mentioned are not mine, and I can't even give a YouTube clip for the mashup because it is all in my head. Don't sue.

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><p>Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together to get the attention of everyone in the glee club, which at that moment included Mercedes and the rest of the disbanded Troubletones again. Spirits were high with everyone laughing and catching up, so it was no surprise that Mr. Schue was having a bit of trouble getting the group to calm down. Even if the teacher had manned up a lot this year, he still wasn't the toughest authority figure – especially with the glee club kids, who it was no secret got away with a lot; the hotel assignments last year at nationals alone was a story that was so epic, mostly because Mr. Schuester still had no idea about everything that had gone down. Still, as time was of the essence, Puck decided to take matters into his own hands.<p>

"Hey!" He shouted loudly, the room nearly going silent. "Shut up."

Mr. Schuester cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, thanks, Puck." He nodded at the young man before putting his full attention back on the group of students. "I know it's already been said, but I'd like to officially welcome back Mercedes, Santana, and Brittany into New Directions. And, in that same regard, Sam has not only returned to McKinley but is interested in coming back to the glee club, and he has prepared something for our consideration."

"Ten bucks says it's sword swallowing," Santana sneered. "So not impressive with a mouth that big."

Sam ignored the Latina, shaking his head a little as he made his way to the sound system. Puck and Mike also left their spots to stand up front, everyone waiting for the music to start; typically people worked ahead of time with the band or learned the song on an instrument, but Sam didn't have time. Rachel had just barely convinced him to rejoin New Directions, and if it weren't for Mike and Puck helping him out, the blonde probably wouldn't have done it in the first place. Then again, Mr. Schuester had said he didn't need to audition again, but this performance wasn't really about the glee club.

It was about Mercedes.

"Uh, I heard I missed your guys' big mash off, so I thought I'd do one of my own."

The music kicked in and immediately the girls started to swoon. Even in a group with such diverse tastes, playing Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back" was a sure hit. And then lacing the familiar tune with a new popular song from LMAFO was just icing on the cake. The beats and the reaction to them should have been enough to calm Sam's nerves, but he hadn't performed since nationals last year and hadn't had a solo since sectionals – and that was actually a duet. With Puck and Mike dancing on either side of him, though, Sam tried to exude the same amount of confidence in his voice as they seemed to have in their dancing abilities.

_Dirty babe_

_You see these shackles?_

_Baby, I'm your slave_

_I'll let you whip me if I misbehave_

_It's just that no one makes me feel this way_

As rehearsed, as soon as the last word came out, the three boys were lined up in the center and the music changed from focusing on "Sexy Back" to LMAFO's "I'm Sexy and I Know It". Sam took the first two lines of the hook, pointing to Puck for one line and then Mike for the other. Then, for the last repetition, Mike and Puck joined in and said the line at the same time while both pointed to Sam before they all took the final line. The next time, they went down the row starting with Mike and spoke the line after a small spin move and all three said the last line while lifting up their shirts to show off each of their six packs.

_Girl, look at that body_

_Girl, look at that body_

_Girl, look at that body_

_I work out_

The girls in the glee club went absolutely crazy, which was actually kind of funny considering it wasn't anything they hadn't seen before. Between sporting events, pool parties, and dance rehearsals that went on forever in the sweltering auditorium, all three boys have had their shirts off in front of the group before. But there was something about the music mixing with their confidence that seemed to take it to another level; even Santana was appreciating the view even though she'd sworn off dick unless it was something kinky with Brittany. Regardless, Puck didn't care about her reaction or anyone else's but Rachel's. He found her gaze from where she was wedged between Kurt and Blaine in the middle row, curious what her reaction would be to him singing the next verse.

_I'm bringing sexy back_

_Them other fuckers don't know how to act_

_Come let me make up for the things you lack_

'_Cause you're burning up, I gotta get it fast_

The trio immediately started back up with different lines from "Sexy and I Know It", but Puck's focus remained on Rachel. She was blushing a little and he couldn't help but feel some extra confidence building inside him. He needed it, too, because this was really the only area in his life where he really felt any. It was where his ego came from and the only reason he ever felt like he could do anything. Rachel was very similar, actually. On stage, she was more herself than anywhere, which was weird considering she's pretending to be someone else usually. Still, it was an interesting parallel; Rachel pretended to be confident on stage, but Puck pretended to be confident everywhere else.

Except, of course, when he was with Rachel.

He wasn't cocky enough to think she broke up with Finn because of him, but he also wasn't dumb enough to just let this opportunity pass by. Unfortunately, his usual arrogance when it came to being the one to pick up the pieces of a broken heart weren't going to work on Rachel. He couldn't just grab her wrist and pull her into the nearest semi-private area. And, oddly enough, he didn't want to; Puck didn't want to just be a rebound. He wasn't sure _what_ he wanted since he was still coming to grips with all these new feelings, but he knew he didn't want Rachel to do something with him that she'd later regret. He'd known it since he walked out of her bedroom last year before Christmas, and it was truer now than it had been then.

_When I walk in the spot_

_This is what I see_

_Everybody stops and starin' at me_

_I got passion in my pants_

_And I ain't afraid to show it_

_Show it_

_Show it_

_Show it_

_I'm sexy and I know it_

All three boys ended the mash up with a model-esque pose, earning a roaring round of applause from the group even if some of the guys were laughing, too. They shrugged off both reactions with calculated indifference, each of them taking their respective seats again after Mr. Schuester had pat their backs in congratulations. Puck had ended up sitting next to Mercedes because he'd almost been late, and he couldn't help but grin at the bashful smile on the girl's face even though she was trying hard to hide it. And since Mr. Schuester was busy doing his best to pry Tina and Mike apart, Puck didn't mind nudging the black girl with his shoulder and winking at her knowingly.

"Welcome back, Chocolate Thunder."

Mercedes merely rolled her eyes at Puck, both of them knowing his tone was anything but casual. Instead, they all moved their focus to the front of the room again, where Mr. Schuester had moved on to giving his typical pre-sectionals speech. They had two weeks before they were set to perform, and like a terrible sense of déjà vu, the glee club still hadn't prepared a set list. It was probably for the best considering New Directions now had four new members to work into the numbers, but their competition wasn't going to be easy. They had to compete against two new groups as well as the Warblers again, and Blaine had told them all just how good they had sounded when he stopped by the school earlier in the week.

"So I really want you guys to be thinking about what's best for the team," Mr. Schuester said as a way of dismissal. "This is the last year for a lot of you, and I know you don't want it to end in December."

While everyone else stood to pack up or leave, Rachel scurried down the risers toward Mr. Schuester. Puck wasn't exactly eavesdropping, but he heard the brunette mention a duet and then her big brown eyes landed on him. He tried to pretend like it wasn't affecting him since Mr. Schue's gaze also moved to Puck, but he was sort of frozen in his spot until Mercedes poked him in the ribs. Her smile, like his had been earlier, was all too knowing.

"Welcome back, Cue Ball."

He glared at her as she laughed on her way out of the choir room (Sam waiting outside the door), his hard stare softening once Rachel moved into his line of vision. "Hey."

"Hi," she responded softly, her eyes down for a moment. "You guys were really good."

"It's what we do." He shrugged and waited, but she didn't offer anything more than that. "Ya cool?"

She blinked once, then tilted her head and smiled softly. "Yes, Noah. Thank you for your concern." Her hand came out to touch his forearm. "Despite how sudden and drastic the breakup might seem to others, it was a mutual decision."

"Right." Puck just nodded. He knew Finn had been thinking about Quinn a little lately, but the breakup was _all_ Rachel. Finn would have stayed Rachel's boyfriend for as long as she let him, especially given the promise of sex Rachel apparently made last Friday. "Keep tellin' yourself that, babe."

"Do you think it was a mistake?"

Puck stopped his retreat just a few steps into it, turning slowly and facing her again. He squinted his eyes and played her question back over in his head as he watched her. She hadn't sounded unsure, but questioning her decision wasn't exactly the picture of certainty. "You don't need my blessin', Berry."

"Yes, I know that." Her gaze faltered for a moment, her voice hitching a little. "But I thought maybe …" She bit her lip, watching him watch her and clearly losing her nerve.

"As long as you're happy, right?"

She nodded once, her lips in a thin line before they curled up a little as she spoke. "I'm working on it."

He smiled, too, if only because she was and he couldn't help himself. Honestly, he had no idea what that had meant, and he couldn't figure it out for the entire walk to the locker room. Most of the other guys had already finished changing, but Puck had a special kind of talent when it came to dressing quickly. If people asked he said it was because he'd run so many laps for Coach Tanaka for being late, but the truth was he'd acquired the skill after one too many run ins with husbands who didn't appreciate Puck's happy ending bonus to the wives for cleaning their pools.

"Puckerman!" Coach Bieste shouted, her voice as clear as if she were sitting right next to him but her presence unknown.

"Almost done!" Puck yelled back, scrambling to replace his shirt and shorts at almost the same time.

"Go to my office when you finish up. Cooter wants to see you."

Puck's actions halted, his shirt half on and a shoe gripped loosely in his one hand. The recruiter hadn't met with anyone outside of Finn since he got there, and even that had turned out just to be to talk to the captain and get a rundown of the team from a player's perspective. Finn was still working extra hard to get the recruiter's attention, and it was no secret Mr. Cooter had his eye on Shane. But Puck? He didn't even want to go to Ohio State and sure as hell hadn't made any attempt to impress the recruiter while he was here.

"Take a seat, son." Mr. Cooter pointed to the chair in front of Coach's desk, and Puck plopped down into the spot casually. He hinged over to finish tying his shoes while the recruiter watched with a stern but somehow inviting expression. "I don't want you to miss much of your practice, but you seem to run out of here like a bat out of hell and I wanted to talk to you." Puck leaned back slowly. "You've got a lot of talent, kid."

"Thanks," he answered respectively, if not hesitantly.

"_A __lot_ a talent. One of the best on the team."

"Thanks twice," Puck said, his voice a little agitated at the way the recruiter slowed his speech. "I ain't tryin' to be a dick. I'm not slow, I'm just not interested."

Mr. Cooter leaned back in Coach Bieste's chair, his hands folding in front of his stomach and a small smile forming. "You've got balls. I like that. It's why I'm talking to you." He pointed out toward where the field was. "There are plenty of kids out there who got the build and the speed or are willing to work every damn day to get those things. But you've got all that _and_ charisma, kid. You have a power to lead people, and that's what I need."

Puck stared blankly at the recruiter for at least a full minute. He had been prepared for the hard sell. He wasn't cocky enough to think Mr. Cooter would lay it all down on the line just to get Puck to come to state, but he knew what these guys did and it was basically one step up from being a used car salesman. Regardless, Puck had never really seen himself as a leader. Then again, he wasn't sure if that was because he wasn't one or because he had always shied away from that (all) responsibility.

"If you don't mind me asking, if you aren't looking at state, what do you plan to do after graduation?"

Puck knew he didn't have to answer, but he also knew Mr. Cooter didn't know anyone in town other than Coach Bieste. He wasn't his mother or Rachel or anyone at school. Puck could tell him the truth and it wouldn't matter other than he might actually get some unbiased advice. "I haven't decided yet, but I saw this one place. Hofstra."

"It's a good school." Mr. Cooter nodded. "Dropped their football team last year, though."

Puck's heart sank along with his head. It was already far-fetched considering his grades weren't the best and it was an out-of-state school, but now he just felt stupid. Anyone else would have figured out that the football program had been canceled, but he was too dumb to realize. He was just a Lima Loser.

"I know a guy at Wagner, though, if you're heart is set on New York." Puck's eyes shot up, his heart racing as he realized that, yes, his heart was set on New York. "It's in Staten Island, about 30 minutes from the heart of the city. I know a bunch of guys who live in Brooklyn as sort of an in between spot, though I'm sure the school has some restrictions for at least their first year players." Mr. Cooter knocked his fist on the desk. "I'll give him a call for ya."

Puck wasn't sure what to say, other than an awed thank you before basically stumbling out of the office and onto the playing field. He went through practice in a blind fog, not coming out of it until afterward in the locker room when Finn finally cornered him. The tall teen had asked about the meeting with the recruiter at least a dozen times, and Puck hadn't revealed anything. He'd tried to just brush his friend off considering the conversation was none of his business and hadn't had anything to do with Finn's chances (if anything, Puck had helped out by taking his name out of the running). But, clearly, Mr. Cooter wasn't the only thing on Finn's mind.

"So what do you think about Rachel and me breaking up?"

Puck shrugged. "Whatever."

"That's it?" Finn questioned, one of his eyebrows lifting skeptically. "You don't care that she's single?"

"Ain't ever been a problem with me before, ya know?" Puck joked, playing the asshole card because he could hear the same tone in Finn's voice. They still hadn't really talked about what was said between them yesterday, and Puck was sure the end of this conversation was going to be very similar if he didn't do his best to avoid it. "I'll see ya at the shop."

"I know you're into her, man."

Puck stopped, sighing a little as his head sagged in front of him. The weight of his duffel bag falling from his shoulder swung his body back around to face Finn, his gaze strong but wary; he really didn't have the strength to listen to yet another tiresome speech about how Finn didn't want her anymore but didn't want anyone else to have her either. It was still circling in the back of his mind as a possibility, regardless, and hearing the confirmation might just make him sick. After all, he had a bet going with Santana that the two would be back together by the end of the week.

"I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but …" Finn trailed off for a moment, licking his lips nervously. "You're not good for her, dude."

Puck coughed on his exhale, not expecting that and really having no idea how to react to it. He was sick of talking, but he couldn't exactly beat the living crap out of Finn either since … well, he wasn't sure if he was wrong. Puck knew he was _better __for_ Rachel than Finn was, but that didn't make him _good __for _her. The thought occupied his mind for the entire walk home. He ignored a text from Rachel asking if he wanted to work on the duet, and he'd ignored his mother when he walked into the house and she'd all but tackled him with messages that Rachel had called the house. And when he got up to his room and fired off a quick text to Johnny at the shop calling in sick, Puck fell to his bed and ignored his homework for the night, too.

He's sexy and he knew it, but what else?


	12. Know the Feeling

**Author's Note:** I know you guys are all hoping for some Puckleberry right now, and I promise it is in the works, but there's still a few things that need to be happen. Honestly, though, I'm really excited for the next few chapters and I hope y'all will agree once you read them. Either way, thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you think. I love all reviews, even ones pointing out bad things (that's how I grow).

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><p>Rachel sat quietly in her seat of her sixth period class, trying her best to at least pay attention even if she wasn't answering every question like she usually did. Unfortunately, her mind was nowhere near the classroom and instead a million miles away. Or, really, just about ten or however many it was to Puck's house. She didn't know for sure that he was there, but considering he never showed up for school, there were only a few places he could be without anyone noticing.<p>

She didn't want it to bother her that he'd never returned any of her texts – three of them – or her calls – just two. But it did. Rachel hated feeling unsure, and it was a feeling she'd been unable to shake all day. She just kept thinking about everything that had happened over the past few days, deconstructing the time she spent with Noah and wondering if she had missed something; he had started being nicer to her before Christmas last year, but she swore it was different now. There was meaning to it, and she had assumed it meant he had moved past the stage of liking her as a friend.

She should have known better.

"Rachel?" Sam questioned, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "The bell rang."

She cocked her head up and noticed the time of the clock, her eyes widening in surprise. "Oh."

"Are you OK?"

His face was full of concern and she couldn't help but smile softly. "Yes, Sam. Thank you." She nodded to further persuade him, replacing her book and notebook in her bag before setting both straps on each of her shoulders and walking alongside him to the hallway. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"If you don't want to study together, it's cool. I'd understand."

"No, of course I do," she assured him. "The test is tomorrow and I still think it is extremely unfair you are forced to participate even though you just arrived back at McKinley." The blonde just shrugged. "I'm happy to help you review."

Rachel didn't tell Sam, but the test was of one of the many things on Rachel's mind. Not because she was worried about her own aptitude or the extra time she was going to use during the upcoming period to go over the study guide with Sam. Instead, she was more concerned with a certain Mohawk boy who had been absent from the science class this morning and more than likely wouldn't be anymore prepared for the test tomorrow. _If_ he showed up tomorrow.

"Do you think Puck will show up?"

Rachel kept her face neutral, but she hesitated in her answer long enough to consider if she'd spoken that last thought out loud. "I'm not sure."

"It's been weird seeing him as the good student and stuff." Sam smirked, taking the seat next to Rachel at a table in the far back of the study hall room. "Maybe the Earth will be placed back on its axis now that he took a mental health day."

"Maybe," she answered absently, trying not to consider Puck's motivations for not coming to school today anymore than she wasn't considering his refusal to inform her of any of his upcoming plans.

"Are you sure you are OK?" Sam probed further. "You've seemed down since after lunch."

Her breath hitched a little, hating that she was so transparent. How was she supposed to convince an audience of thousands that she was the character she was playing and not simply an actress playing a part if she couldn't even fool her classmates? Sam was a little more than just a classmate, but he still shouldn't be able to read her so easily. Then again, wasn't that part of the problem? Artie had all but pointed that out during lunch.

"We ran through a few of the scenes for the musical during lunch," she finally admitted, thinking she might feel better if she spoke about it. "Artie said Blaine and I lacked passion."

"Can't be hard." Sam smiled, opening up his new science book to the unit the test was going to cover. "He's gay."

Rachel rolled her eyes even though a smile made its way onto her face. "I think it's more than that." She shook her head, her temporary good mood fading quickly. "I just … I don't _see_ myself that way." She sighed, not allowing the embarrassment to get in the way. "I'm always the adorable girl or the cute girl."

"You are cute," he agreed quickly, "but I've definitely seen you sexy."

This time she couldn't hide the embarrassment. She blushed, breathing out, "Really?"

"Come on?" Sam scoffed, a pencil held loosely between his fingers. "You've never thought of yourself like that? Ever?"

Rachel squinted, really giving his question some thought. There were a few particular glee performances that came to mind. Anytime she put on tight, pleather pants and sang a rock and roll song she was bound to feel a little sexy, and the one Madonna number had been a little more risqué than she was used to. But, in her everyday life, she was struggling to think of a time when she'd felt that way. Finn made her feel beautiful, and she knew he was attracted to her given his affinity for losing control quickly (at the beginning). But, when it came to feeling _sexy_, Rachel couldn't really pinpoint a moment. Rather, it was a string of tiny moments, all in the gaze of one boy.

Noah.

When they were together back in sophomore year, the only thing they really did was make out. It was always very hot and got out of hand – by her standards even if he hadn't been as satisfied with the pace – quickly. There was something about the noises he made when she kissed him or touched him a certain way that made her bolder, confident. She was a seventeen-year-old girl in the digital age, so she wasn't nearly as naïve as her fathers wanted to believe or as asexual as Santana and the other popular girls liked to joke about. And the feelings she had when she was around Noah, as evident from their almost-kiss earlier in the week and in her bedroom after the Glist and … those feelings were powerful. So powerful that she couldn't ignore them anymore, and apparently shouldn't.

Because they made her feel sexy.

"Could I ask you something personal?" She whispered, her eyes staying on the study guide they hadn't really gone over yet despite that being the whole reason they were together. Still, without looking up she could feel him nod in acceptance. "Considering your surprise at my admission, and your general likeability, am I safe to assume that you feel _that __way_ about yourself?"

He shrugged. "I guess. I mean, mostly I'm just a dork with a great body."

"Yes, but you landed the head cheerleader as an underclassman. That certainly has to provide you with some solace." He shrugged again, and Rachel moved on. "So, if you independently feel that way, then …" She bit her lip, looking up even though it was embarrassing just so he'd know that she was being completely serious. She didn't want to have to repeat the question. "What can a girl like Mercedes give you?"

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise, then lowered and furrowed as he considered his answer. Slowly, he said, "Being with Quinn made me feel like the man, you know?" Rachel nodded solemnly, having been witness to her effects on men before. "But, being with Mercedes …" He trailed off for a moment, putting Rachel figuratively on the edge of her seat. "She makes me feel like _a_ man."

She met his eyes for just a moment, lost in the sincerity in them as well as the vacant sadness hiding in the background of the bright green orbs. She knew he and Mercedes had talked yesterday after glee, but she also knew it hadn't gone as Sam had hoped. Mercedes wasn't ready to jump into another relationship, and her friend had forced Rachel to consider if she should be equally reluctant. Rachel had fought for Sam when she and Mercedes spoke on the phone later that night, reminding Mercedes that he wouldn't be a rebound for Shane since Shane was somewhat of a rebound for Sam, but she hadn't considered her own situation between Finn and Puck.

There was part of her that knew she might be better off staying single for the remainder of her senior year. While she'd been vying for Finn's returned affection for a good portion of their time apart last year, Rachel had grown up a lot during those months alone. She started to rely on herself, started to get back to the person she used to be but better and well rounded. Plus, there was something to be said for leaving Finn, who was unsure about his future, to date Noah, who she knew was a bit more ambitious in regards to getting out of Lima but hadn't made any concrete plans for how. And, of course, one could argue that Noah would just be a rebound for Finn.

But, as she'd continued to think about it after speaking to Mercedes, Rachel couldn't figure out why arebound was a bad thing. As long as the breakup was mutual, she imagined that one would be the most open and sure of oneself during that period immediately after. The rose-colored glasses, as they said, would be off and they could each see themselves and the world much more clearly than when they were together. And what she saw now was Noah, a friend of hers who had gone out of his way more than once to show he was worthy of much more than people gave him credit for. Someone who trusted few people, and she was one of them. She'd told Shelby that he had two sides, Puck and Noah, but it hadn't occurred to her to consider the fact that not everyone knew that.

And, honestly, there were benefits to both sides. Puck might be the obnoxious, crude one, but he was also the passionate side. He was the side that was protective of his friends and family, willing to sacrifice himself for them no matter the cost. It was also quite possible that Puck was the side that caused that sexy feeling Rachel only seemed to experience in his presence, the raw machismo and bad boy persona combining to specifically light her on fire. And while Puck was the abrasive, kick-ass side, it was Noah that was actually the strongest.

Noah was determined to be a good father to Beth despite the circumstances with which she came into this world. He was the one who didn't bat an eyelash when people called him stupid or labeled him as a reckless townie, because Noah knew he would get out of there. He was ambitious and talented and much more intelligent than he let on. Noah was the one who stuck up for her when Santana had said no one liked her, and he was the one who knew her favorite slushie flavor was grape. That was his sweet side, the one that brushed the hair out of her face before his Puck persona kicked in and devoured her lips possessively.

Yes, there were merits to both sides.

"Rachel?" Sam questioned again, amusement in his tone. "Can I?"

"Wha-what?"

He grinned outright. "Copy your study sheet? I have to babysit my little brother and sister tonight, so I'll have plenty of time to sit down and look it over."

"Oh." Rachel blushed, though she knew Sam didn't know why. "Of course. And if you have any questions, you can always call and ask."

Sam nodded then left to head toward the copy machine in the library. Rachel didn't have any other homework for the day outside of studying for tomorrow's test, so she simply twiddled her pink pen while she surveyed the rest of the study hall. Quinn was sitting on the complete opposite side of the room, but her glare was so strong that Rachel was surprised she hadn't noticed it sooner. In fact, she must really have been in a fog since lunch because she had completely forgotten Quinn shared the same study hall period with her. Luckily Miss Pillsbury walked up to block the blonde's fiery look, though.

"Rachel, do you have a second?" The young girl nodded. "I was looking over some new pamphlets that were sent to me and sifting through applications schools have sent me to keep on file, and I just wanted to make sure you had all the information you needed." Miss Pillsbury took the seat Sam had originally been sitting in, pushing some pamphlets to the other side of the table in front of Rachel. "I know you have the talent and the drive to get into NYADA, but I wanted to let you know there were other options out there."

Rachel's eyes moved down to the glossy paper, reading over the names slowly. They were all in New York, and she couldn't help but sigh in relief. Her fathers certainly supported her dream, but they were also constantly telling her how good some of the schools in Ohio were. _You __could __try __it __for __a __year __and __see __if __you __like __it_. She knew they meant well, and were just having a little issue with the idea of letting their little girl move to the big city, but the unspoken support from Miss Pillsbury was a breath of fresh air.

"While schools like NYADA and Julliard are incredibly good schools, they also are very specific in their intent. There is little room for flexibility, and I have to tell you that you're in a stage in your life when anything rarely stays the same as it was before." Miss Pillsbury looked at Rachel a little too pointedly, like she was privy to more information than just her breakup with Finn. "It's important to remember that our first choice isn't always the right one."

"Thank you," Rachel answered shortly, accepting the guidance counselor's slight nod before focusing on Sam, who returned just as Miss P was leaving. The two teenagers spent the remainder of the class period – all of fifteen minutes - studying for the test, but Rachel kept Miss Pillsbury's words in the back of her mind (even if she managed to push them away during rehearsal). It wasn't exactly new information; it was actually something she'd come to terms with the night before last when she'd decided that breaking up with Finn was the right thing to do. Before, she had thought her and Finn were destined to be together partially because it was such an interesting combination and partially because he was her first love. But, just because you can forgive your first love of anything doesn't mean that makes them the right one for you.

The right one might be someone you'd never expected.

"Finn?" She questioned as she approached her locker, the tall teen slumped by it even though school had been over for almost two hours. He'd had football practice, she knew, but that still would have ended almost an hour ago. He looked completely heartbroken and for whatever reason she knew it had nothing to do with their recent breakup. They had talked on the phone last night – Finn had called her and then sheepishly admitted that it was more out of habit than anything – and it hadn't been awkward at all. They were still the same people; they just had decided to eliminate the romantic side of their relationship. "What's the matter?"

His face scrunched in frustration, his voice hoarse. "He doesn't like me."

"I-I don't understand." She forced all other thoughts out of her mind and focused on the pained expression of her ex-boyfriend. "Who doesn't like you?"

"Cooter," he explained impatiently. "He said I wasn't good enough for state." Finn sniffed. "He said I'd _reached __my __ceiling_."

Rachel acted on instinct, her arms immediately circling around Finn's waist. She knew him and she knew when he got upset that he was hard to keep still. And she needed him to be still. He was obviously hurting and he trusted her enough that she was the one he came to, and she wanted to make him feel better. It felt more important than maybe it should have, and selfishly not because he was her friend and she cared for him. Instead, she understood all too similarly how he felt; she, too, knew what it was like to think someone wanted you and then realize that you were clearly wrong.

"I really thought this was my shot," he mumbled into her hair, his head still down when she finally pulled away a little.

"You don't just get one shot, Finn. And, even if you did, this would have been _his_. Not yours. There are plenty of other schools in the state and in the country that I _know_ would love to have someone like you on their team and in their classrooms." It was only a glimmer, but she saw some hope find its way back into his eyes and she sighed in relief. "I must head across town to make it to my dance class, but why don't I come over afterward and prepare dinner? I know Kurt is going out with Blaine tonight and your mom and Burt are out campaigning." Her smile shifted from concerned to teasing. "You can't live off grilled cheese no matter how much you might enjoy doing so."

He snorted out a small laugh, but his face will still sunken. "You don't have to do that, Rach."

"I know I don't have to. I _want_ to." She smiled softly, her hand reaching up to cradle his chin, forcing it up. "I'll make dinner and we can figure out the next steps."

He nodded slowly, not completely convinced, she knew, but she'd take what she could get. "You need a ride?"

She didn't let herself consider everything she felt she _needed_ at that moment, a ride across town to a class that started in precisely ten minutes certainly being one of them. Whether it was a mint or the ability to create passion with her costar, it suddenly didn't seem as important. Instead, she focused on the fact that she had friends – great ones, too – who cared as much about her as she did about them.

And she didn't _need_ a text back from one of them in particular to _know_ that.


	13. Beat It Out

**Author's Note:** So this is seriously the shortest chapter like, EVER. But, it has exactly what I wanted in it so I didn't want to just fill in random parts with extra description and what not and muddle up the pace of it all. So, it's short. Hopefully I'll have the next update up quicker than normal to make up for it, but seeing as how I only have three paragraphs for the whole thing written, I wouldn't hold your breath. But I wanted to post this one because I heart it, AND I figured us Puckleberry fans need something that doesn't make our stomachs turn like the show is likely doing. Haha.

And I'm not purposefully making this A/N long to give the illusion of more words, but I do want to just thank you all for the awesome reviews. I passed 100 a while ago, actually, and that's still something that blows my mind. So, maybe when we get to the end of this story (whenever that will be, because I honestly don't know still), I'll ask for prompts again so I don't fall off the face of the Earth in terms of writing. Regardless, for now just thank you so much and I hope y'all continue reading and reviewing. Enjoy!

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><p>Puck pounded angrily on the punching bag, his hands underneath the gloves raw as his frustration started boiling over. He'd been holed up in his house all day, working on finishing his English paper that was due Friday and studying for tomorrow's big science test, without any contact with anyone. And yet, in the silence, Finn's words from yesterday seemed to not just echo in Puck's head but grow louder and louder throughout the day. So when Sam texted him wondering if he wanted to meet up at the rec center to work out, Puck didn't even hesitate. Now he sort of wished he had, three hours later, because Sam was a beast who was determined to make the baseball team this year. Puck, on the other hand, wasn't even sure he was going to try out this year; he liked baseball, but Rachel had a point in that the future was right around the corner and he should probably be a little more focused on that and not <em>stretching <em>_himself __too __thin_.

Fuck. Rachel.

"Whoa." Sam lost grip of the punching bag as Puck began to wail on the defenseless workout equipment once again. "Second wind?"

Puck grunted in response, pulling his fist back and delivering another heavy blow to what he was imagining was Finn's face. Who did he think he was to say Puck wasn't good for Rachel? There were _definitely_ arguments that could be made for _Finn_ not being good for Rachel, but Finn hadn't mentioned anything about those, _did __he_? Instead, he went right for Puck's fucking jugular. And, sure, Puck had taken some time to clear his head, but he wasn't going to let Finn get _in_ his head. No matter how his friend saw him, Puck knew he'd changed and he knew he wasn't the one who'd noticed.

Rachel had.

"Dude, why don't you just call her?"

"Who?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Rachel." Puck scoffed, causing Sam to add a shake of his head. "She's worried about you."

"How would you know?"

"She told me," he answered so matter-of-factly.

"You givin' up on 'Cedes already?" Puck asked, amusement in his tone even if his fists were clenched at his sides.

"No," Sam bemoaned, pushing away from the punching bag. "We're friends. You know, the same as you two used to be before falling for one another."

Puck coughed. "'Scuse me?"

"I'm just back to McKinley, Puck. I'm not new." Sam rolled his eyes again, unfastening the Velcro grips on his set of boxing gloves. "And I'm not just her friend, but I'm yours, too." Sam's voice grew heavy. "What are you so afraid of?"

"Fuck that noise, Evans. I ain't scared of shit."

"Then what's stopping you?" Puck didn't say anything for at least ten seconds, so Sam continued. "You think you're the first guy to fall for someone he least expected?" Sam scoffed, tossing the equipment into the nearby bucket and walking out of the main gym. "I'm only giving you a hard time because I know _exactly_ what you're going through. When things started to change between Mercedes and me … I didn't know what to do. She wasn't anything like I was used to, and for a long time I convinced myself that meant we weren't right for each other."

Puck hated talking about feelings and shit, but Sam was cool. He wouldn't rat him out to anyone, and the guy clearly knew what he was talking about. Plus, his options were kind of limited in terms of unbiased advice. Finn was an asshole, his ma would lose her shit, Mike was basically married now, and Santana had already given him crap about the whole thing. Everyone else was too close to Rachel for him to trust.

"What changed your mind?"

"She did." Sam smiled bashfully, and Puck couldn't help but grin a little, too, even if the moment made him a little uncomfortable. "And Rachel's just as strong-willed as Mercy, but she's not going to try to change your mind, Puck." Sam's eyes moved over to his friend, the two sitting on one of the benches in the locker room. "She talked to me today about how she's never felt sexy in her whole life. Like, seriously. Rachel Berry."

Puck scoffed along with Sam, thousands of impure images coursing through his mind that would prove Rachel wrong. She was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, and he'd seen _a __lot_. But the difference between all those girls/women and Rachel was the tiny brunette was the sexiest when she didn't even realize it. And, shit, maybe that was the problem. Maybe she didn't think she was sexy because she had no idea when she was doing it. All. The. Fucking. Time. Lifting up high in her locker to get a book, those damn tiny skirts riding up _almost_ enough. The way she bit her bottom lip when she was nervous. Her dainty hands and how they always seemed to sear through his skin whenever she touched him. Those long ass legs that defied physics or whatever by being on such a short, tiny chick. The different pitches of her voice, whether she was just talking or putting everything she had into a song.

The. Eyes.

"Fuck," Puck breathed out, his head sagging into his hands. He rubbed his face in frustration. "I blew it before it even started."

Sam smiled, happy Puck had at least stopped avoiding the topic. "So go fix it." He patted Puck's back once, standing up and unlocking the locker they'd both thrown their jackets into. "You want a ride?"

Puck stood up, shoving one arm into the sleeve of his jacket and then the other. "Nah. I gotta go somewhere else first."

He left without another word, jogging for almost a mile before he had to stop to walk and catch his breath. It was completely dark (stupid daylight savings time) and he'd realized mid-run that he hadn't eaten anything since noon and it was nearing eight now. But, despite the hunger and the freezing temperatures, Puck had to see Finn. He had to confront his friend about everything that had been said between them these past few days. He wasn't just going to tell him to shove it, either, but rather needed to explain that Puck _was_ good for Rachel. Maybe not all the time, but she was strong enough to deal with those times when he'd be stupid and that's why they worked. She'd call him on his bullshit and he wouldn't let a damn day go by without reminding her just how incredibly hot she was.

His steps slowed, though, as he approached the Hudson-Hummel house. Standing outside the front door was not just Finn but Rachel, too. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her former (right?) boyfriend's neck and his were around her waist – over her jacket, thank Jesus, but still. Puck was freaking out, and the small smile Rachel had on her face after she kissed Finn's cheek and then started walking home wasn't making it any better. He still wanted to talk to Finn, but Rachel only lived three blocks away and he suddenly had more drive to follow her and figure out what the hell had happened from last night to tonight.

"Berry!"

Rachel turned abruptly, the beanie on her head sliding down her smooth hair a little so her right eye was covered until she reached up and re-adjusted it. She started to smile, but the fury in his eyes stopped her. Instead, she furrowed her brows, taking a step back as he approached her, little puffs of air coming out of each of his nostrils. "Good evening, Noah."

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?"

She flinched at his words and the ferocity with which he said them. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're fuckin' walkin' different," he snarled.

Rachel scowled at the boy in front of her, ignoring the urge she'd had to fix his grammar and instead just focusing on her breathing. She knew exactly what he was implying, and his anger was both uncalled for and insulting. But, because she was taught not to engage people in these types of situations, Rachel merely snorted in derision and then pushed by him. She tried not to pay attention to the way her heart jumped when her shoulder touched his, upset with herself for being able to have such feelings when she wanted her own anger to take over.

"You really would do anything for a performance, wouldn't ya?" Puck shook his head, his words just as harsh as the first ones as he turned and followed her. She was walking faster now just to avoid him catching up, but her long legs were nothing compared to his longer stride. "I guess all that shit you said in detention was just talk, huh?"

Her hands moved out of her coat pockets so she could cross her arms over her chest, and Puck was momentarily struck by thankfulness that she was wearing a coat; she did that all the time in school and stuff and all it did was push her tits up. See what he meant? Hot without even knowing it.

"Legit, ya ain't gonna learn anything useful from Finn anyway." Puck stuffed his hands into his pockets, still following behind her. "Fucker wouldn't know passion if it hit him in the vagina."

Rachel whirled around, stepping back when he almost ran into her so she could look him square in the eyes. "Why do you care so much?" Puck opened his mouth, but she didn't stop there. "Why are you so _passionate_ about whom I choose to sleep with?"

Puck snapped his mouth shut, his jaw clenching. He was the one who was supposed to be pissed off, and now she'd gone and turned everything on its head. He was being unreasonable, and certainly not acting like a friend would. He wasn't just putting his whole damn hand on the table, but he was throwing the cards at her and emptying his pockets. How the hell was he going to spin this?

"Could it be because you're jealous?" Puck flinched, and he wasn't sure if it was because Finn's words from a few days ago rang in his head or because Rachel had taken a dangerous step closer. "Maybe you were hoping I'd wait for you?"

Puck licked his suddenly dry lips, his chest burning until he realized it was because he'd all but stopped breathing. She was right, but he couldn't _tell_ her that. Not now and maybe not ever considering how much of a dick he'd just been. He released a breath just as soon as she took a step backward, and when she took another and then another he realized they were right outside her house. The lights were on and he thought he could see the glare of the television in his periphery, but his gaze was mostly focused on Rachel as she continued walking backward up the driveway until she was aligned with the walkway to the front door.

"I'm not going to wait for you, Noah." She didn't pause long enough for him to realize that was in the future tense. "If you want me, come get me."

His body turned to ice and it had nothing to do with the cold. It had _everything_ to do with the hot-as-fuck brunette standing twenty feet away from him, completely open to the idea of him … what? It seemed like an open invitation, but she couldn't really be daring him to do what he wanted – throw her over his shoulder and carry her up to her room to screw her brains out. Puck narrowed his gaze, taking one step closer and gauging her reaction. And, even in the freezing temperatures, everything about her at that moment was hot. The flushed cheeks, the rapid rising and falling of her chest. The way she ran her tongue over those perfect, pouty lips – girl was obsessed with chapstick, so it didn't matter if she wetted her lips in the cold. She was so tight in every sense of the word and he wanted to be the one to loosen her up, so he took another step and then another until the Berry front door swung open and her dad poked his head out.

"What in heavens are you doing outside in this cold, honey?"

Rachel blinked away her disappointment, taking her eyes off Noah and moving them to her father. Hiram's gaze had moved to Noah's for a moment, evaluating the boy's proximity with a watchful eye before he looked back at his daughter. "I'll be in soon, Dad."

He smiled tightly and then moved back inside the house, no doubt standing close by to continue watching the pair. Rachel sighed and turned back to face Noah, her head bowing when she saw that he had retreated the few steps he'd taken so he was back at the end of her driveway. She forced her hands back into her pockets, the limbs feeling as heavy as her heart did at that moment.

"I'm walking differently because my dance partner dropped me in class this evening." She followed the pathway to the front door and turned the knob before she turned back to face him. "Goodnight, Noah."


	14. Come and Get Me

**Author's Note:** I had wanted to get this up yesterday, but that would have been impossible considering I just finished. And I really do mean _just,_ so I apologize in advance for any and all errors that can be found. I haven't even read it over completely, so I would be willing to bet there are more than one. Regardless, I want to thank you all for reading and supporting this story. This chapter is a little on the short side, too, but it is sort of the counterpart to the last chapter so I like that, in that way and others, they kind of match. Plus, it is all building up the tension quite nicely, and making you guys even crazier for what is to follow (which I know you'll enjoy. haha) so that's fun for me, too.

Again, thank you so much, and please enjoy (or tell me why you aren't enjoying!) and review! Thanks!

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><p>Rachel sat begrudgingly in the hard metal plastic chair in the back of the stuffy, windowless room. Typically in any room she chose the front row, middle seat; but, seeing as she was currently being held captive against her will, her seat choice was the only thing she could use to rebel against the system. If she weren't so entirely upset at him, she'd smile at how likely it was that he'd find her passive aggressiveness amusing. In fact, it was <em>very<em> Puckerman, which at that moment only served to further anger her.

It had nothing to do with what had happened last night, though. Despite the disappointing end to her and Puck's interaction and the hour-long interrogation from both her fathers that followed the second she walked through the door, Rachel was over it. She wasn't mad at him in the least, because the fact that he'd been there at all was proof that she wasn't alone in the way her feelings had changed. He clearly felt something for her, something that compelled him to argue so passionately with her about with whom she spent her time. And, without her father's untimely interruption, Rachel was sure Puck would have done more than _argue_ passionately last night.

She never got to find out, though. And, frankly, sitting in detention _again_ because of him, Rachel didn't care anymore. At least that was what she was going to keep telling herself – anything to ignore the weird kid sitting caddy-corner to her. She didn't know his name, and she wasn't going to ask because when he wasn't looking over his shoulder at her with this creepy, braces-laced smile he was awkwardly trying to pick his nose without anyone noticing. Upset or not, Rachel knew Noah would be much better company than that kid, even if she'd be giving _him_ the silent treatment, too.

The last time she was in detention – less than a week ago, which was certainly something her fathers would wonder about should it be communicated to them; Rachel would have to make sure it most certainly wasn't – it wasn't technically Noah's fault. He'd been the one to tell her about Sam, but she'd used her cell phone in class and that's why she'd gotten in trouble. _This time_, however, it was completely and utterly his fault. His fault for being late to their science test, making her forlorn about their possible future, his fault for showing up once the tests were passed out and giving her nothing to go off of but a casual smile before he sat down with his paper and pencil. And it was _most definitely_ his fault that he'd laughed when the teacher had assumed Rachel was cheating because her eyes had remained glued to his form from the second he arrived.

Like she'd copy off of _him_. Honestly.

"Where's Noah Puckerman?"

Rachel furrowed her brows, her arms still crossed over her chest. She was about to open her mouth to explain that while he _deserved_ detention, he hadn't been given one. But then, as if summoned from the detention monitor and Rachel's own thoughts, Puck appeared in the doorway. He charmingly apologized for his tardiness, and then moved his gaze off the teacher to Rachel. He smirked at her in a way that made her melt and make her even more pissed off because she _had_ melted, and then strolled over to take the seat directly next to her.

"You three are required to sit in here for the following hour. No talking."

Just like last time, the teacher left the room and with prior knowledge and just the ability to read people fairly well, Rachel knew she wasn't coming back. The room fell deafly silent, creepy kid's sniffling the only sound outside of Puck rummaging through his backpack for something. Rachel figured she should probably finish her homework now, too, since she had a dress rehearsal right after this – she was actually going to be late and she'd already penned a rather nasty letter to her science teacher should this mock disciplinary action result in a subpar performance at tomorrow's musical - and would then likely be too exhausted once she was home to finish. However, she didn't want it to look like she was _copying_ Puck, so she kept her tense position at his side.

"Aren'tcha gonna ask why I'm here?"

Rachel scoffed. "I just assumed your delinquent behavior was buried but not entirely gone."

Puck grinned at her quick reply, chuckling a little when his fingers finally made contact with the tiny box he'd been searching for. He lifted it out of his bag but kept it out of her line of vision under the table. She was still clearly pissed, and he wasn't sure if it was only because of this morning or if it was a combination of everything. The gift was an icebreaker, but it wasn't going to be enough if she couldn't see past today's misunderstanding.

"Shelby gave me detention." Her gaze involuntary moved to him questionably. "I tried to make her get you out, instead, but she thought we could use the time alone to talk." Puck's eyes moved above Rachel's head to the weird kid. "Sorta alone."

She didn't offer him anything to work off of, other than her nose scrunching up a little at the mention of the gross kid also in the detention room. He chuckled a little only because he could imagine the tug of war she must have felt when he walked in the room, happy to not be left alone with the weirdo but clearly not happy enough to let go of the grudge she was currently holding. Rachel was the type of person who forgave pretty easily, but he still owed her a little more than an apology. It was a feeling he knew, if given the chance, he'd have to get used to.

"I gotcha somethin'." Puck moved his hand up to the desk, sliding the tiny box in front of her. She looked at the gift as if it was a trap, and he chuckled again. "It don't bite." Then, he couldn't help it. He leered, "Even if I do."

Rachel rolled her eyes, finally releasing her hands from their spots in the crooks of her elbows and handling the tiny box carefully. After inspecting it once again now that it was in her hands, she removed the small bow first and placed it on the table. Then, slowly, she untucked one side of the wrapping before untucking the next. She spun the gift around and gently tore at the seam to reveal the back of the item. She flipped it over and read the product name and uses, her head turning to Puck and a smile playing on her lips even if her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Icyhot?"

Puck just smirked and nodded his head, taking her sigh of amusement as movement in the right direction. "I'm sorry about last night."

"Which part?" She asked confidently, even if her voice was smaller than usual.

"All of it." Puck shrugged. "In descending order, I'd probably start with your dad coming outside, but I shouldn't have been such a dick."

Rachel nodded her head slowly, accepting his apology as genuine. As she'd thought earlier, she wasn't upset anymore about what had happened. His reaction last night and his behavior this afternoon were clear indicators that their relationship was bordering on the line of great friendship and something more. And, frankly, she liked knowing those were the two choices; before, given his reputation, it would have been easy for her to assume that he was only interested in one thing. Now she knew better without even having to ask.

"I forgive you." She placed the gift back on the table, her hands falling to her lap while her gaze focused on him. "Under one condition."

Puck waggled his eyebrows mostly just to egg her on, but he was rewarded with a soft giggle and then a light shove to his side. It was a little juvenile in terms of flirting, but he was always for anything that resulted in a part of Rachel touching a part of him. Plus, he didn't mind just messing around with her. In fact, being her friend was how this whole thing started, even if he still wasn't sure what _this whole thing_ was. It seemed like something big, something that was maybe even life changing, but it was all still up the air for the most part.

"We need to work on the duet, Noah." Rachel rolled her eyes, her voice dripping faked sternness. "If you are still interested in doing it, we need to practice at least a few times before presenting it to the glee club."

"Ain't no need to pep everyone up anymore," Puck reasoned. "You got Sam, the Trouble Tones came back, and Karofsky was officially recruited."

"Excuse me?" She asked, her voice much higher than the whisper they'd been maintaining since speaking. She cleared her throat self-consciously, daring a glance at the weird kid before focusing back on Puck. "I beg your pardon?"

"Maybe it you hadn't spent all day bein' pissed at me, you would know this." Her eyes narrowed and he laughed into the rest of his answer. "Karofsky said Kurt had asked him last night about joinin' and he's actually thinkin' about it. Said he might wait until after football, but still."

"Kurt spoke with him last night?" She questioned. "He was out with Blaine last night."

Puck just shrugged. "It's a small town."

"They went outside of town," she explained slowly, looking around again for no reason since it appeared the gross kid had fallen asleep. "Apparently a _friend_ of Blaine's convinced the boys to go to a gay bar."

"Hummel went to a bar?" Puck snorted out a laugh. "Cool."

"No. It is not _cool_," Rachel huffed. "Kurt is trying to be something he's not because of this _Sebastian_ character, and in the process of trying to keep his relationship with Blaine strong he's just making it worse."

"I heard Blaine was the one at fault last night." Puck shrugged again, lounging back in his chair simply because he was stiff from his original position. "Dude can't hold his liquor."

Rachel sighed, wondering just how much she'd missed today by being entirely focused on what was or wasn't happening between her and Puck. She'd clearly missed a lot of drama in her best friend's life, not to mention what could be a vital new member in their glee club. Sadly, each bit of news tied in terms of importance, and Rachel found herself most interested in how the two connected. She remembered in their previous detention hour that Puck had claimed David was gay, which would certainly connect the dots, but that was also information that didn't exactly add up. And yet … it did.

"David would certainly give us an edge for regionals, especially if he could convince some of the other football players who'd helped with the half-time show to also join."

"I knew that's what you'd hone in on," Puck laughed.

Rachel scowled. "Well you won't let me focus on the duet anymore, so …"

"We can still do the duet." Puck's smile faded slowly, his posture straightening much like his expression. "But shouldn't you be focusin' on the musical?"

Rachel cocked her head to one side, evaluating Puck's awkward expression paired with his less-than-convincing excuse. Something was off. "I suppose there is some merit to resting my voice, but there's also something to be said for practicing for when I become famous. Many Broadway shows do a performance a day, sometimes two, and those performers likely don't spend their days refusing to use their voices."

"I just thought you'd wanna be safer than sorry what with this show being so important for NYADA or whatever."

She considered his words, and considered the ramifications of her response before finally answering, "I'm applying to other schools as well." His eyes grew a little bigger. "I've come to the realization that it's good to have options, and … sometimes our first choice might not be the best."

Puck's fell from the chair across the table back to the ground, his head slowly turning so his eyes focused on hers. She'd bowed her head as soon as he made contact, though, and he knew just from that small gesture that her words held more meaning than just for her college applications. That reassurance gave him the confidence to do what he'd come here to do in the first place, even if it meant doing fifty laps after football practice for being late. Rachel was worth it, and he was finally going to give her a hint that he really thought so.

"There's actually somethin' else I was hopin' you could help me work on."

"Of course. I have a dress rehearsal tonight, but I'm free after that." She smiled brightly. "Did you want to meet at my house or yours or …"

She trailed off, her eyes moving from him to the papers he'd slid across the table in front of her. After her impromptu meeting with Miss Pillsbury this afternoon and just her general knowledge of the application process from her own research, Rachel knew exactly what the papers were for. She read over the names of the schools carefully, ignoring the two that were clearly his fallback schools and instead focusing on the three others that were underneath. She read them more than once not because she didn't recognize the names but because she could have sworn she must have been reading them wrong.

"These are all in New York."

Puck nodded slowly, Rachel's eyebrows furrowing even more. He didn't offer anymore explanation, and his facial expression left her nothing else to go off of. She could only stare at him and then stare at the papers and then back again and wonder, once again, how it all connected. Outside of leaving Lima, Puck had been just as wishy-washy in terms of his future as Finn had been, and yet now it seemed like he didn't only have an idea, but a direction. And that direction, it seemed, was pointing the same way as hers.

"Noah …"

"We're closing up the library," one of the library assistants announced after opening the door to the detention room. The weird kid had startled awake and Noah immediately stood up with his bag, but Rachel couldn't move. Her heart was beating so fast that it felt more like it was humming, and the only movement she seemed to be able to manage was her eyes and eventually body moving to follow Noah as he moved through the room. He stopped at the doorframe and waited for the library assistant and nose-picker to be long gone before turning his eyes back on Rachel.

"Hey, B. You want me?" He smirked so devilishly at her frozen state, realizing it was going to be easier than he thought to pull off the fast getaway. "Come and get me."


	15. Visiting Hours

**Author's Note:** This one came out a little quicker than the other chapters as of late, and I hope I can have another update to you guys sometime Thursday. If not, this one might have you hold you over because I'll be going out of town and won't be back until the mid next week. Yuck. Still, this IS the chapter many of you have been begging for, so with that in mind, please enjoy and please let me know what you think!

As always, thank you so much for all the support!

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><p>Puck slid the gear shift from drive to park with a bit more effort than it normally took, his entire body exhausted after football practice and the extra laps he'd had to run afterward for being late. He'd known it was coming considering he'd told Coach Bieste beforehand about his after-school stint in detention, but she'd told him that it was either twenty laps or he couldn't start tomorrow. Normally Puck didn't care too much, but since he planned on gloating on his college applications about starting every game since he joined the football team he thought he should stay on Coach's good side.<p>

Stumbling out of the truck and slinging his duffel bag over his one shoulder, Puck made his way to the front door of his house wondering if he was still on Rachel's good side. He'd left her in the detention room speechless, which was just short of impossible when it came to Rachel Berry. But, honestly, he wasn't sure if it had been the right move. She'd already basically told him that she was interested, so he didn't know why he still needed reassurance. He'd put the ball back in her court so it would be her decision – he figured it would have sucked if he'd made a move and she'd just assumed they were doing their normal flirting bullshit – but everything she'd done since breaking up with Finn (and maybe beforehand) had been about _his_ decision. She'd been testing him, and maybe instead of taking her challenge to the next level he should have kicked that weird kid out of the room and spent their detention hour doing a little more than talking – or less, depending on how you think about it.

"Nooooooaaahhhhh." The sound of his little sister's voice broke through his thoughts the second he opened the door. "You're late."

"I know."

"Mom already left." Sarah's eager green eyes bored into his even from her much shorter vantage point. She was the spitting image of their father, but he didn't like to think about that. She didn't even know what the guy looked like, and it always made it easier to claim she'd been adopted to be his slave. "I got McDonald's on the way home, but you have to fend for yourself."

"OK." He threw down his stuff with a heavy sigh, shedding his letterman's jacket and hanging it up. Babysitting his little sister wasn't out of the ordinary for a weeknight, but it had already been a pretty long day without having to worry about how he was going to get _both_ their shit done before he passed out. "I gotta take a shower. I'll help ya with your homework after."

"You can't shower," Sarah said matter-of-factly, her hands on her hips. "There's a _girl_ upstairs."

"A girl?" Puck groaned. "Ma said you can't have friends over when …"

"She's not here for _me_." Sarah smiled wickedly. "She's waiting for _you_."

Puck grinned at his sister only because he could practically hear the wheels spinning in her head. She'd made a lot of money from him ever since she figured out girls coming to see Puck usually meant he was doing something he wasn't supposed to. When and if the time came, Puck was going to have to mention to his mother that she won't have to worry about Sarah's college fund; he'd probably secured at least a year or two just in the last two years. It had been awhile, though, and she likely had felt the loss in her piggy bank.

"How much is this gonna cost me?"

Sarah shrugged, the corners of her lips curling up. "I can be good."

"Really?" He quirked an eyebrow up in surprise. Rachel claimed that Sarah was going to be a thousand times worse than him because she was smarter, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe Sarah was smarter and therefore had matured quicker. She didn't need to blackmail her older brother, just like she didn't really need a babysitter. She was eleven now, after all. It was almost the exact age Puck was when their father left, and he'd certainly taken on a lot more responsibility than just trying not to light himself on fire or break anything (himself included).

She hummed. "I'll just sit and watch TV." Then she gave the patented Puckerman smirk. "And if I get cold, I know where the matches are."

Puck glowered at her, shaking his head as he dug into his back pocket for his wallet. He lifted a five from the leather bifold, groaning when she scoffed and pushing it back down in exchange for the only ten he'd had. She smiled brightly and grabbed the bill from his grip, skipping to the couch to continue watching whatever horrible show was playing on the Disney channel. Her books were out in front of her on the coffee table, but he made sure to shout down a stern reminder that he would be checking her homework once he was done talking to whoever was waiting for him as he took the stairs two at a time. He was still super tired, but the thought of Rachel waiting in his room was like a second wind.

Until he opened his bedroom door.

"Oh don't look so disappointed," Santana sneered.

Puck just shrugged but couldn't hide his frown, tossing the Latina a nod. He should have known Rachel wouldn't wait for him in his bedroom. She hadn't been in his room many times since they'd become friends, but she'd said she wouldn't step foot in the space again after the last time unless he made an effort to clean his room. He'd actually picked up a little yesterday when he was home sick, but Rachel also wouldn't wait alone in his room with Sarah downstairs. Despite his relationship with his little sister – which wasn't bad but was typical of an older brother and younger sister – Sarah loved Rachel. She'd actually tried to trade him for Rachel one time during temple last year, and their mother swore otherwise, but Puck knew she'd considered it. It was no secret Ma adored Rachel, and she'd probably lose her shit if she knew Rachel and Puck were bordering a very thin line between friends and more.

"What's up, Satan?" he asked casually, fully entering the room and kicking off his shoes.

"What did you do to her?"

Puck blinked at the question. "Her who?"

"The midget, Puck," Santana snarled, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she managed to sit deeper on her perch at the corner of his desk.

She wasn't the tallest of women, which sort of made the comments about Rachel's height less meaningful, but she'd seen _Basic Instinct_ enough times to pull off that hot bitch move perfectly. She was a pro at the whole not-so-subtle leg crossing thing, and even though she wasn't doing it, he couldn't help but think about it and remember to tell her later that she should be a defense attorney or some shit.

"What did you do?"

"Nothin'," he answered defensively, pulling his T-shirt over his head.

"Bullshit."

He sighed in frustration. He still needed to take a shower and he hoped getting ready would speed this insane conversation along. He and Santana were friends, but not the sit-and-talk kind of friends. Really, she was like any of his other guy friends, most conversation happening over food or an event. Anything other than that wouldn't last longer than a few minutes, which was probably all he'd have before Sarah would demand that five on top of the original ten anyway.

"Look, tonight's not good for me, so maybe …"

"She was incredible tonight, Puck."

Puck's words halted right in his throat, his eyes sort of boggling at Santana's interruption. He didn't quite understand them, but he'd heard Santana talk about the musical before and she'd never had anything nice to say. Normally it was always about how much better she was compared to everyone else or how she deserved a bigger part – basically the same shit she pulled in glee whenever she was feeling extra bitchy. For Santana to not just compliment someone else, but to compliment _Rachel_ … something big had to have happened at this afternoon's dress rehearsal.

"For reals, you know that killed me, right?" They each laughed, Puck thinking that Santana had always been pretty good at reading his mind. "And I still think you're fucking insane, but … _god_." Santana shook her head, hopping off the desk and stepping a couple of feet closer. "You two might be perfect for each other."

He rolled his eyes in reflex. "Your vagina has really grown in since you came out."

"You're just pissed I took a threesome off the table." Santana smirked, shrugging one shoulder up emptily. "Then again, Berry could be hot with the right amount of duct tape over that trap of hers."

"Duct tape?" He questioned teasingly. "Kinky."

The two were laughing lightly, with Santana's hand pressed into Puck's stomach when Rachel poked her head inside. She licked her lips and cleared her throat, bowing her head shyly when the pair's heads turned toward her. "Sorry to interrupt." She peered up at Puck bravely, the inside of her lip caught between her teeth. "Sarah said I could come up."

Puck's head nodded a mere fraction of an inch, the three people taking turns staring at one another. Santana kept tossing Puck a look that was clearly meant to emasculate him, and Puck was doing his best to signal to Santana that her five minutes were up. Rachel, on the other hand, wasn't as focused on either Santana or Puck, but rather both of them. Or, better yet, certain parts of each of them, like Puck's naked torso and Santana's hand's previous proximity to said bare skin. And their proximity to each other. And their proximity to the bed.

"We'll finish this later. I gotta jet," Santana said after a few moments of awkward silence. She ran a hand through her perfectly groomed hair, straightening her skirt for no reason. "Word of advice: Don't sit on the bed. He only cleans the sheets when he knows he's getting laid."

Rachel's nose lifted in disgust, her head turning to watch the Latina leave the room. She'd closed the door on her way out, but the sound of her and Sarah arguing about something on the TV before the front door shut close kept Rachel's eyes away from Puck's for another minute or so. Or, at least, she blamed it on Santana's exit. But even after she'd left, Rachel felt it difficult to meet his gaze.

"Ya cool?" Puck asked, his eyes cocking in confusion as he moved to sit on his bed, partially proving Santana wrong and partially too exhausted to keep standing. Rachel was typically much more long-winded than Santana, but at that moment she wasn't saying anything. In fact, her eyes kept darting from his torso to the trail Santana left in her wake. It didn't make any sense, but it totally did. "She's into chicks now, remember?"

"I know that," Rachel huffed, her arms crossing over her chest. He looked so arrogant as he stood, his hands moving to the buckle of his belt and undoing it. "I, I uh …" She stumbled, flustered by him. "I don't know what I was thinking." She shook her head. "Coming here …"

Puck's hands moved from the button of his jeans toward Rachel, forcing her to turn back toward him instead of the door she'd been moving toward. He could see the emotions swirling around in her eyes, and it struck him as sort of odd how well he knew someone he'd been trying to avoid being close to for the past two years. "I thought you were over the Barbravention shit?" Rachel only shrugged, her eyes cast downward until he moved one of his hands from her hip and flicked her chin up. Sam's words from yesterday echoed in his mind, and even though it wasn't very badass, he couldn't help but putting her mind at ease. "They got nothin' on you, B."

Rachel's mouth opened on a quiet gasp, her eyes focused on his penetrating gaze but her mind a jumbled mess. It sprung from the magical feel of his callused fingers on her skin to his odd ability to be so gentle with the hand that was stroking her face to so possessive with the hand that was secured on her hip. She could feel his breath wisp across her neck, the heat of his body spreading through her just because he was so close. When her eyes had finished roaming over his body, she looked up at him through her long eyelashes, hiccuping a little when she noticed that his gaze had only intensified during her moment of reprieve.

"Noah …" She trailed off for no other reason than she hadn't even meant to say his name. It simply came out in reflex, like a breath before she lifted her chin higher and closed the distance between their lips.

Puck groaned at the contact, his eyes shutting tightly. He'd forgotten just how perfect her lips felt against his, how perfect she felt against his body. And, more importantly, he'd almost forgot that it was _OK_ to kiss her; she wasn't with Finn or trying to get back with Finn. She was here for him. She had kissed _him_, and that thought paired with the animalistic way she bit his lower lip finally caused him to respond to the kiss. His grip on her one hip tightened while he wove the fingers of his other hand through the long chocolate strands of her hair, remembering that it, too, felt perfect.

Rachel moaned when she felt Puck start to kiss her back, his lips and tongue immediately working in harmony against her own. Kissing him had always made her feel somewhat unstable, which was why she'd often been grateful that they were usually lying down. However, this time, she was not just standing up, but he wasn't wearing a shirt or anything she could hold on to. And, instead of pulling when her hands hit his chest as she would've if he'd been wearing something, the second her skin made contact with his she began to push him until he sat down on his bed. Their lips parted for only a mere moment, only long enough for Rachel to straddle his lap and slant her lips back over his.

Puck growled at Rachel's boldness, thinking back to just minutes ago when he'd been worried he'd made the wrong move with her earlier this afternoon. And maybe this sudden onslaught of sexual release had nothing to do with his challenge, but he sure as fuck wasn't going to question it. Her tongue slid against his even as she released a breathy sigh, her dainty hands gripping the back of his head in a feeble attempt to get closer. It didn't work, but when she circled her hips and he ground up into her in response, she got what she wanted – but pulled back on a gasp anyway.

Rachel licked her swollen lips, the clearing fog only making the lust in Puck's eyes that much more apparent. The feel of his thumbs drawing small circles on the inside of her thighs was driving her crazy, and before she did something – involuntary or not – she'd regret, Rachel hastily shot up off his lap and at least three feet away from the bed. She wrung her hands in front of herself, not sure how to explain that she hadn't come over to do _that_. She wanted them to talk about things and _maybe_ kiss, but it seemed impossible to take it all back when she'd been the one to make the first move – and, frankly, she didn't want to take it back.

"I-I didn't mean for … that … we should w-work on your applications."

"OK," Puck said after a few deep breaths.

Her eyes grew a few sizes, her breath caught in her throat. "Really?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, wiping his palms on the knees of his jeans before using the appendages to help lift himself off the bed. He knew exactly what must have been going through her head; even if she wasn't talking a mile a minute, she was still thinking it. And even though it sort of pissed him off that she assumed this was all about sex for him, he couldn't really blame her. Mostly because getting pissed about it would force him to admit out loud that it wasn't, and he couldn't quite do that yet. Plus, he wasn't entirely sure he would have stopped her had things continued down the path they were going in. He'd hoped he would, but she was insanely hot and single and into him and … fuck. He had to get back on track.

"Yea, really," he said, mentally shaking the impure thoughts away and instead aiming for nonchalant. "Sarah is right downstairs. Have you no control?"

She giggled at his taunting, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. She bit her lip when her cheek nestled against the center of his bare chest. He smelled like sweat and the forest, and she knew he wasn't the type of person who enjoyed cuddling, but she couldn't help but hold him tighter. "Thank you, Noah."

He felt her soft words dance across his skin before he even heard them, and with her tiny frame pressed against him and the sincerity of her words hitting deeper than just the surface of his chest, he couldn't help but think it was almost as good as just a few moments prior. But then she tilted onto her toes and planted a quick kiss on his lips before telling him she'd be downstairs while he showered. Memories of her core grinding against him, the warmth of her tongue wrestling with his own, and the tiny noises that he swore she only made with him came shooting back as she sauntered out of his room and he wanted to take it all back. Nothing could possibly be as good as _any_ of that, let alone it all combined.

But, as he walked out of his room to take his _cold_ shower thinking of ways to convince her that they should "work" upstairs, he heard Sarah and Rachel talking animatedly about something downstairs. His little sister was laughing in her very rare, girly laugh, and Rachel's giggle similarly filtered up the stairs and again penetrated more than just his ears. It was sort of strange considering he'd just thought her unique noises drove him crazy, but that sound and just the knowledge that she was downstairs waiting for him – content to help him with his college applications while he babysat his little sister – sort of calmed him.

And even though it had nothing to do with sex stuff (which he wasn't going to say he didn't enjoy), it was still pretty cool.


	16. Showtime

**Author's Note:** Finally! I finished a chapter when I said I would! *silent applause* Honestly, I'm thinking you guys might have been more satisfied with the last chapter for another week, but this one builds up the tension again after y'all got the big kiss last time. I liken it to a roller coaster ride, during the brief moment between the two loop-de-loops. :D

As I mentioned last chapter, I'm going out of town for about a week and won't even have a computer, let alone time to write. So this chapter is going to have to tide you guys over for awhile. And, if it doesn't, the promise of things to come hopefully does. In the meantime, thank you so much for reading and reviewing and being so awesome in general. You guys are the best!

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><p>Rachel had a lot on her mind. The musical, her relationship with Finn, schoolwork, college applications … it was an endless cycle. And even though last night with Noah had been wonderful and she'd allowed herself to live in that moment for as long as it lasted – a little after nine thirty so she could leave in time for her ten o' clock curfew; Sarah had refused to go to bed at her normal bedtime with Rachel present, so a bulk of the evening was spent with her and Noah innocently working on his college applications and their homework, ending in a light but still knee-weakening kiss on the Puckerman stoop – time does not stop for romance, contrary to popular belief.<p>

The McKinley High's presentation of _West__ Side __Story_ was set to start in approximately thirty minutes, and Rachel needed to focus. And, to her, focusing meant she had returned to her mile-a-minute mindset. Lines of dialogue mixed with conversations from the school day, the sound of the seats in the auditorium filling reminded her she needed to finish her audition tapes for the extra set of schools in New York she'd decided to apply to in case NYADA fell through. After all, the goal was to get on Broadway and perform in New York; how she got there or which school helped prepare her were actually quite irrelevant – even if one of them happened to be in Noah's list of schools to which he was applying.

Completely irrelevant.

"You are really doing a number with that blush," Kurt bemoaned, appearing behind her.

She threw him her typical threatening look through the mirror, and she caught his reflection's snide smile that was supposed to remind her that she was about as intimidating as a chipmunk. In her scramble to bring some balance back to her life, Rachel had spent much of the day pulling herself out of the fog that had been her annoyance with Noah the day before and, instead, focus on her other relationships. A lot of revelations had come out of their stint in detention yesterday, many of them focused on the boy who'd just snatched the makeup applicator from her hand and was starting to work his magic.

Classes were surprisingly busy for a Friday, two serving up pop quizzes and another assigning a rather large report that would be due before the holiday break. Rachel knew she'd have more time to focus on her schoolwork after this weekend when the musical was over, but sectionals were right around the corner, too. They had just next week to prepare for their set, and it was going to be more work than usual considering they were the host team this year. Mr. Schuester refused to reveal who'd they drawn as competition, the only sigh of relief coming from Blaine hearing that The Warblers weren't one of them.

The Warblers, apparently, were selected to perform late next week; an event that Blaine was obviously invited to but unsure if he should attend. As Puck had alluded to yesterday in detention, the night out on the town with Kurt, Blaine, and Sebastian apparently hadn't gone well. Rachel had only gotten a few details from Blaine about the whole thing during lunch today when Artie had called a last-minute meeting about the musical, and because of the crazy class schedule, she hadn't been able to talk to Kurt about it at all. Until now, of course.

"What happened at the gay bar the other day, Kurt?" His eyes widened in surprise, even though she was pretty sure he wasn't all that shocked at her blunt question; she was never one for beating around the bush. "No judgment."

"Right," he said slowly, no sarcasm in his tone. "It was … awkward."

Rachel listened to him explain the whole story in vivid detail all while he reapplied her makeup, asking questions here and there. She now understood how David had entered the picture, even if she had to admit it had been Puck who told her Karofsky was gay; Kurt had promptly made fun of her gaydar, which she tried to argue was offensive, but honestly was ashamed of considering hers should be heightened between her two fathers and Kurt. Rachel now also understood Blaine's trepidation about attending The Warblers' sectionals performance, as it was clear this Sebastian character had no qualms about pursuing someone who wasn't available.

"And this goes against everything I believe in, giving you full reign on any conversation is just asking for trouble, but can we please talk about something else?"

Rachel frowned a little as Kurt moved on from her makeup – which she had to admit looked flawless – to her hair, his eyes and the tone of his voice telling her much more than he probably intended. She didn't want to analyze why she might be somewhat of an expert at noticing people's subtle pain, but she could tell there was much more to Kurt's story. Especially the part about Blaine and whether or not they were truly the power couple they once appeared to be.

"In fact, I'd _love_ to talk about that coy smile I saw on your face when we passed Puck when we were leaving second period."

She blushed, but honestly had been hoping he'd bring it up. "We kissed."

"No!" Kurt practically squealed, forcing Rachel's seat to face him head on, her hands braced tightly on the arms of the chair until the seat stopped spinning. "Tell me everything."

She scoffed. "Kurt, don't be ridiculous." She huffed out a breath. "Noah and I have yet to discuss it or what it all might mean in the grander scheme of things, so I'm certainly not going to sit here and _dish_ to you about ..."

"The mind-blowing, Earth-shaking, knee-weakening …"

"Are you quite finished?"

"Orbit-altering …"

"OK, that's enough." She sighed heavily, Kurt's words managing to frustrate her in more ways than one. She didn't want to think about Noah because she had to focus on her performance, and she had to _not_ focus on the fact that they'd made plans to talk later. She still wasn't sure if talk was a code word or not, but she still wasn't sure if she cared. Hence her dilemma. "But … I wouldn't mind some advice if you think you could control yourself." She took a deep breath for courage. "I know you said it was personal, but … I was curious about you and Blaine …"

She noticed his subtle flinch and filed it away for further probing. She should have probably stopped right there and demanded, as his best friend, he tell her everything that was going on between the two of them. It could very well affect both of their performances in the musical, and Rachel was of the mind that talking things out was always the best approach. Unless, of course, it was her and Noah. Then she didn't see the harm in avoiding the issue to focus less on talking and more on touching, it seemed.

"How did it feel?" She asked abruptly, realizing she did need his help even if he might need hers later, too. "I mean, when you and Blaine …" Kurt's face immediately morphed into one of disgust, to which Rachel quickly retracted her previous question. "No, no, no! Not _that_." She could feel her cheeks burning red, and she was thankful Kurt had fixed her makeup otherwise it surely would have looked worse. "I meant _beforehand_. What made you finally decide you were ready?"

Kurt shrugged, going back to fixing her hair. "You know how all those television shows and movies go on and on about how you'll just know?" She nodded. "Well, it's true."

"But if one is indecisive by nature, then _knowing_ might not be as easily discernible as it is for someone else."

He snorted in amusement. "Are you the one who is supposed to be indecisive in this scenario? Miss _Road __Map __for__ My __Life_ Berry?" He laughed at her deep scowl even as he ran his thumbs over the lines she was creating on her forehead. "If Puck wants you to …"

"It's not like that," she defended quickly, quietly. "It's not him." She was blushing again, but his understanding gaze gave her the courage to forge on. "I spent five months with Finn, who I loved deeply, trying to make myself ready. After the last time, I just figured it would happen sooner and it would feel right and …" She trailed off, her voice decreasing in volume. "We just never got there. The kissing was mostly sweet and our love certainly made the time together beautiful, but it never …" She tried to think of the words that described how she'd felt last night. "It never became a _need_."

"There was no spark?"

She sighed, wishing that weren't true. "Finn is very attractive, and I know he thought the same of me, but it was always so awkward between us. Perhaps the height difference was a challenge, but even in situations where it wouldn't …" Kurt playfully covered his ears with his hands for a moment, forcing Rachel back on track. "One or both of us was always so nervous."

"But you aren't with Puck."

"Yes!" She answered quickly. His sentence had come out as fact and not a question, which meant he understood what she meant, and she couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over her. "I understand it is a new … relationship … and that can make things more exciting, but everything with Noah has always felt very … natural." She chose that word above _effortless_ because it certainly took effort to get to where they were and where they were possibly going. "I have the same lack of experience, and he has substantially more than Finn, but it all feels completely normal with him. Not scary at all."

"Then what's the problem?"

She blinked once, thinking _that _was the problem. "It's too soon. I mean … I am just clearly not thinking clearly. He has this strange ability to render me completely useless. It's as if he consumes me, which can't be healthy. Plus, in five months I never felt ready with Finn, and now I'm considering it with Noah after … we aren't even together!"

"I shouldn't have asked."

"This is serious, Kurt."

He groaned. "Fine." He pretended to think about her predicament for all of four seconds. "Did you ever consider that perhaps you _were_ ready with Finn, but you knew better?"

"And now I don't know any better." She nodded her head, eager to have an answer. "That makes sense, because clearly I would rely more on Noah's cues in this department considering his vast experience and perhaps I'm letting _his_ ease with the situation dictate …"

"No, Broadway." Kurt sighed, done with her hair minutes ago and now tired of standing in front of her like a stylist. "That's not what I meant, especially because I don't think Puck has _ever_ done this before."

"Ten minutes!" One of the crew members shouted.

"Let me try to sum this up." Kurt pressed his hands into Rachel's bare knees, looking at her intently. "If you were just another girl, he would have had you last year before Christmas." Rachel scrunched her nose at the less-than-pleasant euphemism for what could have transpired between her and Noah. "This is different for him, just like it is different for you. And different, buttercup, isn't necessarily a bad thing."

Kurt left after that with just a nod of his head, the heels of his costume boots thumping as he walked away. Rachel watched his exit long after he was no longer in sight, her brain working through his words over and over. She was sort of fascinated by the thought that perhaps Noah might be just as confused about all this as she was, but Rachel couldn't help but focus more on Kurt's last bit of advice as she left to head closer to the curtain. Kurt sounded like he was speaking from experience, and the thought wasn't necessarily a new one in Rachel's world, either. She was different in a lot of ways, and she'd learned to embrace those differences about herself. So why wouldn't she do the same in others and in her life?

"Where's your prop?" Tina asked in passing while moving to the other side of the stage where she and the other girls would exit from during their scene.

Rachel rushed back to the tiny vanity she'd claimed as hers – there was a gold star with her name on it taped to the mirror – and saw not just the prop for her first scene, but a single rose as well. Her gaze moved quickly to the left and then to the right, seeing no one other than the crew members and some of the cast. Hesitantly, she moved toward the beautiful plant, noticing a tiny card resting on top with her name on it. Or, her last name, anyway.

_ Kick__ some __ass_.

Simple and somewhat poetic, Rachel couldn't hide the widening smile that appeared as she read and reread the words that were clearly from Noah. The boys had played an away game at a neighboring school, and she'd already mentioned to both him and Finn that she wouldn't hold it against them if they missed opening night. Coach Bieste, however, was taking her participation in the musical seriously, as she'd promised they'd make it back in time for curtain call. Rachel knew Noah could have given the flower and card to someone else to put there, especially since the football team certainly wouldn't have had time to go to the florist, but she could _feel_ his presence, and it warmed her heart to think he cared enough to lift her spirits before the show.

"Ah, amore," Blaine joked lightly, a knowing smile on his face as Rachel walked closer to him.

She rolled her eyes even as they focused forward at the stage they would be taking in only a few minutes. "Please. You and Kurt are the epitome of sickening these days." Blaine managed a short laugh, but it was forced and completely unnatural, and Rachel decided then and there to get the whole story. "What _happened_ the other night?"

"Nothing," he immediately answered, and then groaned at her unconvinced expression. "Honest, Rach. Outside of a miscalculation regarding my alcohol intake, _nothing_ happened." He sighed heavily. "He's insanely jealous of Sebastian, emphasis on the word _insane_ since Sebastian is so not my type."

"I may have told him …"

"I told him, too!" Blaine was clearly frustrated, and Rachel momentarily regretted bringing up a topic that clearly stirred up so many emotions right before the musical was about to start. "He won't listen to me, though. _Instead_, he's been spending all his time with Karofsky."

Rachel gasped, even if she didn't mean to. "I'm sure Kurt's simply taking his responsibility as co-captain seriously and doing his best to recruit David and the other capable football players for New Directions."

Blaine looked at her as if she couldn't have been any dumber, and Rachel couldn't really blame him. She'd been the one to say it and even she couldn't believe the words. Kurt hadn't said anything, and she knew he still cared deeply for Blaine, but there was something different about Kurt lately whenever he spoke of Karofsky. And different, as he'd pointed out just moments ago, wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"I'm not sure what happened."

Her breath hitched at Blaine's quiet confession. Those were the exact words she'd said to him just a few feet away after he'd caught her and Puck at the piano (sharing a special moment, and nothing else). And, knowing what happened between her and Finn afterward and what was now happening between her and Noah, she couldn't help but ask, "Even if things … go badly …" She trailed off just to see if she'd crossed a line, but Blaine seemed to be waiting for the rest of her question. "Would you regret it? Any of it?"

Blaine turned his head to the side for just a moment, both of them catching the other's eyes before looking back in front as Kurt walked by. He told them to "get their pert, little asses to their places" before winking at them both and moving to his designated area on the other side of the stage. Rachel turned to Blaine first afterward, noticing his soft, sad smile. Instinctively her hand came up to rest on his opposite shoulder, squeezing it softly not to make him feel better before the performance but because he was her friend.

"No," he finally said, shaking his head a little and taking a deep breath, clearly getting back into the mindset of Tony. "And I'm not going to go down without a fight, but … if …" He couldn't even say the words, and Rachel didn't want to hear them. "Everything that happened between us felt right at the time. And as long as you know yourself enough to know right from wrong, you can't ever regret doing what feels right."

_Now __presenting __McKinley __High __School __in _West Side Story.

Rachel gulped down the large lump that had formed in her throat after Blaine's words hit the nail on the head for not just his situation but hers as well, but forced herself into character. "Showtime!"


	17. Party Invitation

**Author's Note:** I'm back and ... not exactly better than ever. But I sort of love this chapter because, as I likened it to one reviewer, this is that build up to the second loop-de-loop in what has been the real Puckleberry interaction. And I know you guys are dying for some more interaction, and I promise you'll be getting some pure Puckleberry in _at least_ the next chapter, if not the next few. This is like the spark to the flame. :D

I'll do my best to work on the next chapter as fast as I can, but I hope you all enjoy the holiday weekend! As always, thanks so much for all the super sweet feedback. I appreciate it SOO much and hope you continue to read and review!

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><p>Puck's shoulder rested against the doorframe between the large foyer and the living room. He wasn't necessarily staying by the front door in preparation of running out, but he liked to keep his options open. After all, he was waist-deep in loserville and had been nursing some stupid red drink that unfortunately wasn't spiked. He was long past the time in his life when he hadn't realized that the kids in glee were his real friends and they were way cooler than the other kids in school gave them credit for, but three dudes from the AV club just walked in and air-fived with their friends from the chess team; apparently the group from the chess team had been riveted by the dudes' lighting choices during the musical.<p>

Legit.

He hadn't been paying too much attention to the lighting, or even the other people he knew in the show. But, when Santana had asked, he'd told her she'd been awesome. From what he understood, the part was pretty much perfect for her and he'd seen her afterward so he knew she'd looked hot. Awesome was probably just scratching the surface, but most of his focus had been on Rachel. She'd also looked hot, but it went beyond that. Whatever was going on between them aside, she had been incredible. He gave her a lot of shit for talking too much and generally not being able to be quiet, but when that chick opened her mouth to sing … it was a fucking religious experience. Hark the heralds and shit, no doubt.

"Hey," Finn said as he approached, half a cookie teetering from his mouth while the other was in his hand. His eyes seemed to follow Puck's for the moment it took the latter to remove them from the petite brunette, and he frowned a little before finishing off his cookie. "You heading out?"

"Nah," Puck answered evasively, taking a sip of the shitty punch just to keep his mouth occupied. His brain was filled with thoughts of how fucking sexy Rachel looked across the room mingling with everyone and the last thing he needed was to accidentally let something inappropriate slip out in front of Finn. The two still hadn't exactly talked since the confrontation in the locker room – both of them – and now wasn't really the time. Although, then again, Puck wasn't sure there would ever be a right time to tell his somewhat best friend and Rachel's ex-boyfriend, _"Fuck you. I ain't just good for her, but we're good together."_

"I'm probably going to leave soon. I'm still beat from the game."

Puck nodded. "Good throw in the third."

"Nice catch."

The two boys did a standard smile and nod, each taking another moment to reminisce about the game they'd won earlier. They were expected to win tonight, which wasn't helping their enthusiasm level. All the glee guys had talked about it a couple of days ago, actually. They were complaining because they had to run some extra laps after staying late in glee, and wished the team wasn't doing so well. Sure, they all liked not being the laughing stock of the school anymore, but football was a lot more manageable when it ended in December. Seriously, football in February was Super Bowl shit, not high school football championships and _not_ in Ohio.

"The musical was pretty cool." Finn's eyes fell downward. "Rachel was amazing."

"You should tell her. Not me."

Finn chuckled a little. "Right." His eyes moved to the right, finding Rachel across the room; she was talking with Mercedes, who both boys were hoping was seconds away from falling to her knees and begging for forgiveness. In fact, anyone who thought Mercedes could have played Maria even half as good as Rachel had tonight needed to line up and apologize. "Her ego needs a boost as much as yours does."

"Fuck off," Puck responded with a smirk. His gaze moved back to Rachel, narrowing out of reflex when Sam wrapped both arms around her tiny frame and lifted her off her feet. Puck knew Sam likely only chose that moment to offer his congratulations to have an excuse to stand by Mercedes, but the blonde was awfully handsy. Rachel's infectious laughter echoed in the room when he spun her around, though, so it was hard for Puck to stay pissed for too long. Or, it seemed, for him to hear what Finn had been saying. "What?"

"I just, uh, said I was sorry … about what I said." Finn officially had Puck's attention. "The truth is I was the jealous one."

Puck stared blankly, not sure how to respond. What did Finn have to be jealous of him for? Finn always got everything he wanted. Puck, on the other hand, never did. Or, if he did, he had to work his ass off to get it and then work even harder to keep it. Ma said working hard made you appreciate the end result more, which Puck actually understood. There was something sort of cool about earning the good grades and the praise he got for them instead of just convincing teachers to let him pass so his grade point average was high enough where he could play sports. But that didn't mean he wouldn't mind being dealt an easy hand every now and again.

"I dated her off and on for three years, but you might actually be exactly who she needs."

Puck coughed a little, his macho attitude taking front and center. "I dunno about all that."

"Dude," Finn said seriously, forcing Puck's grin to fade completely. "You are."

Both their eyes moved to the other room, finding the lead female in question mingling with Tina and Mike and then quickly moving to another set of people singing her praises. She looked so happy and everyone around her did, too. She'd finally found enough humility where she could accept compliments from others without pointing out everything they'd forgotten to mention about her performance. It didn't just make her much more tolerable, but it made everyone else more willing to give in to the fact that, like it or not, she was a star.

"It's like she has the confidence in herself that she's always had in other people."

Puck thought about Finn's words for a long moment – as long as he could, anyway. Rachel had just tossed her head back in laughter and that sound combined with the visual of her long, silky chestnut hair swaying back near her ass wasn't exactly conducive to logical thinking. Unless it was logical to be stuck remembering the feel of those satin strands of hair running over his fingers when they'd made out the day before. Still, it was worth noting that this whole thing had sort of started because of confidence issues; wouldn't it be a crazy mind fuck if the answer to solving all their problems was as easy as getting together?

"And I didn't mean to imply that you weren't a good guy," Finn continued. "We wouldn't still be friends if I thought you were really a dick. I just … I'm never going to stop worrying about her and … well …"

"I can be a dick."

Finn snorted out a laugh even with his head cast down in shame. "Yeah."

Puck nodded, not feeling like he needed to respond at all. He understood where Finn was coming from; despite their rocky relationship, Puck still watched out for Quinn a little more closely than just a typical friend. He figured it came along with knowing the other person more, which was probably why Q liked to give him so much shit about Rachel liking him, and visa versa. Sometimes friends helped you see what you either didn't want to see or couldn't. And Finn wasn't exactly wrong. Puck could be an asshole, and Rachel knew this, too. Sometimes he had to consciously stop himself from being a jerk, but most of the time – with her – he just didn't want to be one. It was no secret that he hated chicks crying, but Rachel crying made him feel about a thousands shades of sucky.

"Ut oh," Finn said in a brightly cheery tone, the seriousness of their conversation giving away to his wide smile. "You must have heard us."

Rachel beamed up at Finn as she walked up to the pair, jokingly responding, "Busted."

"You were amazing." Finn encircled her in a tight hug, and Puck kept his jealousy at bay by finishing off the last of his punch.

His eyes roamed aimlessly over the rest of the house (that he could see) while Finn and Rachel chatted about nothing in particular. He saw Santana accepting praise from everyone for her performance, but she wasn't eating it up as much as she used to. Instead, she and Brittany were whispering conversation in each other's ears, ignoring the creepy group of guys in the corner of the adjacent room who were watching the two girls all too closely. He thought about walking over and tossing the idiots a look that would no doubt protect his friends, but then Rachel touched his forearm and he couldn't help but focus on her instead.

"… you _both_ must be exhausted after such a long day."

"Yeah." Finn nodded, his eyes moving off Rachel's gentle touch on Puck's arm back to her eyes. "I think I'm going to tell Santana and Quinn good job and then head out."

"Well thank you again for coming." She removed her hand from Puck's skin to again wrap her arms around Finn. "It was very sweet."

Puck watched Finn nod casually to Rachel, then make a similar motion to him but one that meant something completely different. It was almost fatherly, like he'd be watching for Puck to screw up but hoping he wouldn't – he didn't want to see his little girl hurt. Puck still wasn't sure Finn was completely cool with everything, but when he watched the tall teen nervously approach Quinn, he figured his friend had other things on his mind. After all, Quinn was trying to engage Sam in some conversation that he clearly wasn't interested in; it was kind of the opposite of a love triangle, with Finn wanting Quinn, Quinn wanting Sam, and Sam wanting neither of them. It was just sad.

"Will you be heading out soon, too?"

"Nah," he answered coolly, moving his eyes back to Rachel. "Sarah is havin' a sleepover at the house. So, ya know, the later the better."

Rachel smiled knowingly even though she _didn't_ know anything about the trials of having a younger sibling, especially one of the opposite sex. He'd heard her dreamily wonder what it might be like if she weren't an only child, but everyone around her at the given moment was usually quick to point out how miserable she'd be. Rachel loved being the center of attention, even more so at home. And the sad part was that no one could really see either of her fathers successfully convincing the other sibling that Rachel wasn't their favorite.

"Well, I wanted to thank you again for coming. I know it must have been difficult to be on time after participating in the football game." She started to ramble. "Did you see Shelby? She brought Beth, too, who wore the most adorable little dress. I'm sorry to say I didn't notice her in the crowd, but we spoke after the show. Shelby is giving voice lessons at her house and apparently was offered a position at LCC."

"Missionary or somethin' cool?"

She blew out a breath, knowing that was his subtle attempt to derail her conversation but refusing to let him stop it. "I just can't believe it is all over. One more show tomorrow night and then a matinee on Sunday." She shrugged. "It's for the best, however, considering sectionals is right around the corner and we need to put our focus back on glee. Then it will be winter break and the new year and, before you know it, graduation." She stopped suddenly, not to take a breath but to consider her own words. "It's going by so fast."

"Fuck. You don't ever just chill, do ya?" He stared straight into her eyes, almost mocking her by not shaking his head at her.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "It's the adrenaline from the show. I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep tonight."

He chuckled a little, suddenly wishing he hadn't downed the last of the punch considering he wasn't sure what else to say. "Good thing Daddies Berry are gone then, huh? You can stay up and bounce around your house carefree all night."

"Yes," she giggled. "This is true. Although, truthfully, I'll probably end up spending the evening alone in my room. The house is too big and feels much too lonely when they are gone."

"I'd give my left nut to have the house to myself as much as you do."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "It certainly has its benefits, but consider the fact that your living arrangement is likely a wonderful testament to what you'll be able to deal with should you move to New York. Crowded dorm rooms and tiny studio apartments." She sighed dreamily. "Daddy has insisted that they help me by renting a spacious apartment in a decent part of town, but I can't help the small part of me who wants the experience of having a door with five different locks and loud neighbors and end tables of milk crates."

"There ya go again. Talkin' about the future." Puck shook his head, not letting the super cute image of Rachel being totally cool relaxing in some shitty apartment stick in his mind. It wasn't badass to even _think_ the word cute, and he was already trying to forgive himself for not just buying a rose but giving it to someone. "Live in the moment a little, B."

Rachel bit the inside of her lip, thinking of his comment and of Kurt and Blaine's words from earlier. Deciding to follow their advice, she nodded once in agreement and then lifted to her tiptoes and planted a hard kiss on Puck's lips. Her hands were perched gently on his forearms, her fingers curled slightly over the defined muscles, but she let them settle in front of herself once she pulled back. She smiled sheepishly at the somewhat dazed expression on his face. It was quite adorable even if it did make her a little nervous, too.

"Not that I'm, uh, complainin' or nuthin', but … what was that?"

"A bribe." She smiled wide, one shoulder lifting up emptily when his shocked face turned to one of confusion. "I rode here with Kurt and Blaine and they are about to leave."

"How do ya know?" He asked, momentarily looking around for either boy in question.

"As you pointed out," she began coyly, "I can see the future."

Puck rolled his eyes. "So what does it matter if they are leavin'?"

Rachel looked him square in the eyes, a ghost of a smile still present but her expression mostly serious. "Well they are my ride home, too, and I wanted to offer you some solace from your own house." Then she tilted her head down nervously, looking at him only through her thick eyelashes and the safe veil of her long hair. "Maybe we could work on the duet."

"It's like 11 at night," he said for no other reason than it was the first thing that went through his head.

"Yes," she cleared her throat nervously, "but, as you mentioned, my fathers aren't home and I … I thought, if you wanted, you could just … stay." Then she looked up at him completely, her bottom lip caught between her teeth even if her voice was less shy and _a lot_ sexier. "With me."

Puck couldn't help it. He was just _staring_ at her, trying to process everything she'd said. Not so much all the stupid shit about Shelby and whatever, and not necessarily everything from tonight, either. The invitation to join her at home seemed like a big deal considering her unusual anxiousness, but it was blown tenfold when paired with the knowledge of what Finn had told him at Burt's garage about what this weekend was intended for. And yet, before he could ask for more information - or, you know, tackle her - Kurt and Blaine strolled up to the pair.

"All aboard?" Kurt asked cheerfully, eyeing Rachel even though he was clearly talking to Puck, too.

Puck took one more glance at the tiny brunette in front of him, then slowly smirked as he addressed Kurt but kept his gaze on her. "Shotgun."

Kurt scoffed. "Unlikely, Puckerman."

"Whatever, Hummel." Puck threw an arm over Rachel's shoulders, pulling her closer as the four of them walked out of the house toward Kurt's car. "I ain't ridin' in the back of the wiener mobile."


	18. Ask Me Again

**Author's Note:** So, I just finished this one. But I can't _NOT_ post it because ... well, you'll know why. Right now, I just want to thank EVERYONE for all the awesome feedback. Seriously? 200 reviews already? You guys blow my mind. And I only hope to be able to return the favor. Enjoy!

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><p>Rachel stood nervously in her kitchen, her foot tapping in sync with her anxious fingertips drumming on the countertop. Her fathers had tried teaching her patience a long time ago - a watched pot never boiled, they'd remind her at this very moment even if she was technically waiting for the kettle to whistle – but it was something she was still working on. She couldn't be perfect, after all, and she was still quite young. She had time to learn these valuable lessons.<p>

That's what Shelby had said anyway, right? That her drive for the future and her maturity sometimes made it hard to remember that she was still quite young – not even an adult, by law. It was easy to forget how much of life she still hadn't experienced. Rachel felt like she'd been through her fair share of extraordinary drama – teen pregnancy, alcoholism, peer pressure, bullying, dysfunctional families, heartbreak, love – that the unknown was kind of scary. But that was why she'd broken up with Finn, right? Because she didn't want to be scared, she didn't want to settle. She wanted to leave Lima and all its stigma behind and take whatever curveballs life might throw at her. She wanted to live, even if that meant she'd make some mistakes.

Her fathers, no doubt, would consider her decisions thus far this evening to be a mistake. Even Kurt and Blaine had looked at her quite suspiciously when she'd told Kurt to drop both her _and_ Noah off at her house. The line about working on the duet worked pretty much as well as she'd thought it would – not at all – and she'd already gotten a text from Kurt telling her to be safe and to call him _afterward_. He put it in all capital letters and everything, which he didn't usually bother with even if she demanded he spell out all the words properly.

The capital letters, however, made the whole thing seem more significant than she had originally thought. Perhaps she hadn't exactly been thinking when she'd invited Noah over, but she couldn't help herself. _That's_ what she'd told Kurt (and Blaine at one point), and yet neither did anything to stop her. So, maybe she was on the right path, even if she was currently second guessing herself. After all, her fathers always told her to follow her heart as it would never steer her wrong.

"Yo, Berry!" Puck shouted as he walked from the living room into the kitchen. "Gonna get that before my ears explode or what?"

Rachel turned from the oven and blinked at him in confusion before the loud, piercing sound of the kettle whistling finally registered. Her eyes widened in surprise and she quickly grabbed the handle, moving the kettle to one of the unused burners. She turned off the heat and reached up for two ceramic mugs that were hanging on little hooks under the cabinetry. Scooting across the kitchen to the pantry, she grabbed two packets of hot chocolate, doing her best to ignore the fact that her hands were shaking as she ripped open the tops and poured the powder into the mugs.

"What? No little marshmallows?"

Rachel actually flinched. "Oh my. You're right. I'm terribly sorry. We have …"

"Christ, B. Calm down." He shook his head comically. "It was a joke."

Rachel forced out a small laugh, wishing she wasn't so nervous. Then again, it seemed like he'd picked up on her odd behavior and was stepping closer to her. It was strange considering _he_ was the one making her nervous, but his proximity somehow managed to calm her down, too. There wasn't anything intimidating about him as he stood just inches from her, not touching her but clearly struggling against the urge to do so if the twitch of his hands at his sides was any indication.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, her eyes still cast downward. "I don't know why … I'm sorry."

Puck sighed out heavily, fighting a losing battle even as his hand moved to grasp the inside of her right wrist. For no particular reason or even a conscious decision, his fingers gently slid to the other side, twisting her hand upright. His larger hand cradled hers before he absently stroked her fingers while the other hand made its way to her hip. Both their eyes seemed transfixed by his actions, or maybe it was just easier to stare at their hands then look the other in the eye.

"You know we don't have to do anything." His voice was scratchy, rough. "Right?"

Rachel nodded even though neither had lifted their eyes up, but since Noah was almost a foot taller than her, she knew he could see her nonverbal response. What he couldn't see, however, was the disappointment coursing through her. She _wanted_ to do this, with him. It had nothing to do with her fathers being gone or what Artie had said or even what Kurt of Blaine thought. It had everything to do with Noah, and the way he made her feel. Sam had made her realize that Noah was the only one in her whole life who'd made her feel sexy, but it was more than that. It wasn't just one emotion she felt when she was with him. It was a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings and she didn't want to ignore them, even if she was a little scared.

"I've never done this before," she admitted softly, as if she was telling him something he didn't already know. "And it's very hard for a perfectionist like myself to be the best at something without any frame of reference."

Puck couldn't help the genuine smile that graced his face when she finally looked up at him, his head bobbing a little in understanding. "You want some pointers on how to be perfect?" She nodded slowly but desperately. "OK. Stand there." She frowned when he took a step back, the ease his presence had brought dissipating much like the heat created from their mingling body heat. In fact, she shivered as his eyes roamed over her body, squirming a little under his intense scrutiny. "Done."

"Done?"

He grinned, grabbing his mug of hot chocolate. "Yep." He slowly took a sip of the beverage, licking the frothy chocolate at the top from his lips before looking at her once again. "You're perfect."

Puck winked and then walked out of the kitchen, leaving a dumbfounded Rachel in his wake. He'd made it all the way to her family's staircase before she started to follow, abandoning her own hot chocolate to instead get to the bottom of whatever his point had been. By the time she'd reached the basement, Puck was situated at the baby grand piano in the corner of the room. She opened her mouth to question him further, but then the notes to the duet echoed in the room and she was sidetracked.

"You remember the song," she said breathlessly.

"I may have practiced it a few times." He shrugged, his fingers moving deftly over the keys as he spoke. "Knew you'd kick my ass if I didn't."

She giggled softly, taking the final steps needed until she was able to sit on the piano bench next to him. It was strange, especially considering just how much had changed since the last time they were in this position, but Rachel still felt exactly the same way she had that afternoon. He'd come to her as a favor to Finn, even though he'd clearly had feelings for her. And not once during their discussion had he tried to persuade her into one decision or another. He'd never had, not even upstairs when she'd embarrassingly made her intentions for this evening obvious.

"Do you remember that afternoon?" She asked quietly, Puck nodding but not stopping his playing. "I'd chosen the song because it is a lovely duet and the male lead is well within Finn's range, but … when I was singing it, all I could think about was how much the lyrics seemed to better fit our own relationship." She sagged her head a little, partially out of embarrassment and partially out of shame. "I just wasn't willing to admit that the feelings I had for you then were stronger than any of the feelings I ever had for Finn or anyone else."

"You loved the guy."

"Yes, but …" She struggled to explain her thoughts. "We are too different."

"And we aren't?" He asked with a smirk, even if she could tell his question wasn't rhetorical.

"No, we are quite different. Maybe even more so." She smiled, too. "But I think our differences balance each other out somehow. And that's what Shelby said I was missing. Balance."

Puck again didn't say anything, and instead just continued to play the notes for the duet. He hadn't been nervous before, but her somewhat confessional had unsettled him. He wasn't used to being the one people confided in, but he also wasn't used to being the answer to what had clearly been a long thought out question. Whenever sex was involved, or even just girls, Puck was the guy they chose out of spite or just reputation. They used him to make their boyfriends jealous or to piss their parents off or to climb rank in the high school hierarchy. He'd never just been the right choice, and when it came to Rachel, he still wasn't convinced he was.

"I wanted to thank you for the rose."

"No sweat."

He brushed off her quiet gratitude so quickly that she couldn't help but roll her eyes. "For someone as arrogant as yourself, you don't take compliments too well." He scoffed in rebuttal. "I won't tell anyone the great Noah Puckerman bought a rose, if that's what you're concerned about."

"Nah." Puck shook his head, his hands finally falling off the keys; he didn't want to play the song for a fourth time. "Frank Sinatra was all smooth and shit and he was still pretty badass."

She frowned as she considered his choice of words, considered if he was being genuine or _smooth_. "So, it was less romantic and more … a flower for a flower?"

Puck turned his head slowly to face her, his eyes narrowing a little. "No." His lips were in a thin, straight line, the only emotion coming from his hard gaze. "I already toldja, we don't have to do shit."

"Yes, but …" She bit her lip self-consciously. "Don't you want to?"

"Legit?" Puck laughed a little at himself, shaking his head as he breathed out the rest of his response. "I dunno. Like, obviously yes – fuck yes – but …" Her light smile at his flash of desire gave him the courage to continue. "That's not what this is about, ya know?" He sighed heavily, thinking she probably _didn't _know because this was the first real conversation about their relationship they'd had, maybe ever. "I don't wanna be some rebound." He shrugged. "I don't want you to regret anythin'."

Rachel smiled shyly, thinking about her conversation with Blaine before the musical. She'd asked him point blank if he'd regret his decision to sleep with Kurt if they ended up breaking up, and he hadn't even seemed torn in his response. Maybe it wasn't ideal, but they had been in love at that moment and the result of that love couldn't be regretted. And, honestly, Rachel knew she wouldn't regret her first time being with Noah. She didn't know what the future held for them, if they'd even have a future, but was sure she'd look back at this moment fondly regardless of what happened.

"I want you too badly to regret it."

She admitted it in such a strong voice that he couldn't help himself from leaning forward and slanting his lips over hers. She hiccuped in surprise before wrapping her arms around his neck, and Puck wasn't sure he'd had this mix of feelings course through him before. It was more than just lust, more than just wanting to rip off her clothes and have his way with her. It wasn't even about wanting to prove to her that he could do it better than Finn. It was about her. About how she saw someone completely different than everyone else when she looked at him, and how she forced him to see that same man. She'd always refused to believe he was anything less than amazing, which made absolutely no sense considering how long he'd treated her like utter shit, but he wanted to prove her right nonetheless.

"Tell me to stop whenever."

Rachel nodded her head only a fraction of an inch, a whimper escaping at the love she could hear in his tone and at the way his lips suctioned to the sensitive skin of her neck. She figured it was entirely unattractive that she was basically panting into his ear while he slid his hot tongue over her pulse point and then blew softly on the area until she literally shivered, but she couldn't have stopped if she'd wanted to. It took her a full minute and a half just to lift her hands from where they had landed on his lap to his jaw, another minute to force the appendages to move his head enough so his lips returned to hers.

Puck wanted to go slow. He wanted to take his time, show Rachel exactly what she'd been missing and what she trusted him to do. And even though Shelby had thanked him for his patience with Rachel thus far and he still wanted everything to be up to her, Puck couldn't help but push a little further when he felt Rachel's tongue invade his mouth and slide across his. His hands moved slowly down her thighs, his lower half rising so he was instead straddling the piano bench when he sat back down. He curled his long fingers around the underside of her bare knees, pulling her flush against him, only letting go once her legs dangled up over his.

Rachel tightened her hold around his neck as she moved (was moved) closer to his body, the fingers of her right hand fanning out over the back of his head almost in sync to Puck's hands on her lower back. A few of his fingers were toying with the sliver of skin that was exposed between her skirt and her top, and Rachel moaned at the tantalizing feel of his rough fingers being so gentle on her smooth skin. She rocked her hips forward, her bottom moving off the piano bench to instead rest more on his legs. She could feel his erection pressing into her through his jeans, and unlike last time she didn't recoil at the feeling.

She welcomed it.

"Noah," she whined, pleading for something she couldn't even describe. There was something burning inside her, a pressure building that she couldn't lessen no matter what she did. Every step further she took, whether it was rolling her hips against him or his hands grabbing tightly onto her ass, just made the need stronger and somehow further out of reach. Her hands crept underneath his shirt, and the feel of his warm, solid frame seared her fingertips. She could feel his ab muscles constrict in response to her touch, and before she knew it she was gripping the sides of his T-shirt and removing the offending garment from his torso.

Hers soon followed, her lips abandoned as Noah moved down her neck to the top of her shoulder. She hiccuped when his tongue dipped into the hollow of her collarbone, the trapped breath coming out in a rush when he moved the slick muscle down the valley of her breasts. She could feel his hands on her back, but hadn't noticed him unclasp her bra until he was simultaneously kissing around the lacey cup and removing it from her body. Her back arched when his one hand moved to fondle her breast while his mouth worked magic on the other soft mound. His other hand had moved back to her lower back/top of her ass, holding her against him.

Like she was going to leave.

"Noah, please," she whispered, her voice hitching at the last syllable when he swirled his tongue over the nipple. She didn't even know what she was asking for, but she knew if anyone did it would be him. Not because he'd been with a lot of other women or even because he'd had sex before. He simply seemed to understand her body – _her _– more than even she did and she knew he could relieve the ache burning deep inside her.

"Tell me what you want," he croaked out, his hands moving underneath the hemline of her skirt and touching the bare skin of her high thighs. He massaged the warm skin as he pulled back, his eyes half-closed but entirely focused on Rachel. Her skin was flushed and her chest was rising and falling harshly, but her eyes were still closed. She looked a fucked up mix of peaceful and restless, and he considered asking her if she'd lied about being a virgin; no chick should be this good out of the gate.

Rachel's eyes fluttered open, a slight gasp escaping when she saw he was staring back at her. His normally bright hazel eyes were clouded over, dark with desire that likely matched her own. He wasn't touching her anymore outside of the methodical stroke of his thumbs on her thighs, but Rachel could still feel _all_ of him. She felt his lips on her skin, felt his center perfectly aligned with hers. And no matter how delicious it all felt, she wanted more. She _needed_ more.

Puck blinked in surprise when Rachel dislodged herself from his grip, his eyes watching her eye-level chest until she was out of sight. He swung his leg over the piano bench (not exactly the best feeling with a raging hard on), watching the sexy sway of her hips as she walked to what he knew after sleeping there during her last party to be the laundry room. She returned with two heavy blankets and grabbed some overstuffed pillows from the couch on the other side of the room before laying it all out on the makeshift stage next to the piano.

Rachel smiled coyly, extending her one hand out toward Noah as she walked back to him, bending down just a little to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. She plunged her tongue into his mouth languidly, savoring the feel of him responding to her before she pulled back, lifting him up to a standing position. His hands immediately found their way to her hips, toying with the waistband of the one-of-two pieces of clothing keeping her from being completely naked in front of him. Boldly, Rachel ran her hands down his chest slowly before ending at the belt buckle that was just barely keeping his low-hung jeans on his hips.

"Ask me again," she demanded softly, undoing the clasp of the buckle and then gingerly removing the belt from each of the loops. As the accessory fell to the ground, Rachel undid the button on his jeans, then moved her hands to cover his own on her. They'd grown stronger since she started removing his belt, his fingertips indenting the skin above and through her skirt. She waited until his eyes opened back up, then smiled before repeating, "Ask me again."

Puck cleared his throat. "What do you want?"

Rachel smiled wickedly, using his hands to undo the zipper on the side of her skirt before letting the garment pool at her feet. Puck swallowed thickly, and she couldn't help but place a purposeful kiss to the column of his throat after she watched his Adam's apple bob nervously. "I want you, Noah."


	19. Wear Me Out

**Author's Note:** Happy New Year, everyone! What's say we start 2012 off with a bang? :D

Thank you everyone for all the support and the awesome reviews. You guys certainly made last year interesting and I know you'll continue to be great this year, so thanks so much! Now, enjoy (and then tell me how much you enjoyed)!

**Disclaimer:** You might have been questioning it before, but this is definitely M-rated now.

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><p>Puck awoke from the soundest sleep in the history of sleeping, which made no sense considering his whereabouts. The finished basement was nice, but it was still a basement in Ohio in November, so it wasn't exactly a tropical climate. His head rested on a plush pillow, his body not as lucky as it was only a semi-thick comforter away from the cold, hard stage floor. There was a thin blanket covering most of his frame, the other blanket from before missing. And it was this last detail that was likely the reason he woke up at all; it was clearly still night given the dark sky that could be seen from the small window by the stairs, so why was he alone in "bed"?<p>

He hinged forward, stretching his back and arms as he listened intently for the whereabouts of the missing blanket – or, rather, the girl he imagined it was wrapped around. Faintly, from upstairs, Puck heard what he assumed was the refrigerator door open and then close. His ears perked up to listen for her footsteps, and he nodded almost triumphantly when he heard them move from one side of the kitchen to the other. Quickly he grabbed his boxers from the floor and moved up the stairwell, stopping at the doorframe before the kitchen.

In a word, Rachel was beautiful.

At that moment, she was standing in front of the microwave, waiting for a cup of something to heat up. Her hair was held up in a messy ponytail, the tousled strands just barely covering up the exposed skin of her high back. The missing blanket in question was secured across her shoulder blades, over her arms and likely covering most of the good stuff up front. Beneath the bottom hemline, however, were her shapely calves – product of dance classes since she could walk, no doubt. One of her feet stayed secure on the ground while the other was perched on her big toe, which didn't seem like the right way to describe such a petite part of her already tiny body.

There were a lot of things Puck wanted to do when _that _was his view, but Puck had never been in this situation before. He normally scrammed long before the chance of falling asleep even took place, nor was he ever in the situation where he even remotely cared about hurting the chick's feelings. That wasn't the case with Rachel. And, unable to see her face, he couldn't tell if she was standing there watching the microwave thinking of all the reasons she'd regretted what had happened between the two of them or not. A new situation again, as the girls in these situations rarely cared enough about what transpired between the two of them outside of being satisfied (which was maybe the only thing he wasn't worried about right then).

"Are you leaving?" She asked, her voice so quiet that he barely heard her over the gentle humming of the running microwave.

"Leavin'?" He questioned, his voice still a little groggy from sleep. His eyes swept to the front of the oven, noting that he'd probably been out for an hour give or take a few minutes. "Are you kickin' me out?"

Rachel slowly spun to face him, her shaking head subtle but her expression anything but. Her eyes were turned down, her bottom lip hidden between her two rows of perfect, white teeth. She was nervous, and he couldn't resist the urge to touch her any longer. He crossed the distance between them in three long strides, one hand gripping onto the blanket by her side while the other curled around the side of her neck. He used his thumb to force her chin (and therefore her eyes) up, searching her expression for more of an explanation.

"I don't want you to go," she admitted quietly, some relief coming from his attire (or lack thereof) though most came from his attentiveness. She wasn't sure what to except or how to act, and Rachel hated being unsure. She despised the debilitating feeling of not being confident in her choices, whether they were what to say or do, and she'd never felt it more than she had tonight. But, somehow, before now, Rachel hadn't needed to voice those concerns. Puck had magically pinpointed her worries and completely put them to rest with his encouraging words or actions.

The microwave beeped and interrupted the silent stare down, Rachel twirling in Puck's embrace and retrieving her cup of hot tea. He gave her enough slack to turn and reach for the bag of sugar substitute she'd brought out, but after that he'd strengthened his hold and placed his chin on her shoulder. "Did you just get up?"

"No." She shook her head softly, dipping the tea bag into the hot water. "I never fell asleep."

"Oh, shit." His guilt lasted a few seconds. "You wore me out, B."

She giggled in spite of herself. "Really?"

"Legit." He nodded against her skin, allowing himself the reward of sucking softly on the area where her shoulder met her neck. "I know you were shootin' for perfection and shit, but … you fuckin' exceeded it."

Rachel sighed out heavily, her head falling back and to the right a little, lost in his words and his actions yet again. She inhaled sharply when she felt one of Puck's hands meander under the blanket to the bare skin of her torso, then exhaled a ragged breath when she pushed back and felt her own effect on him. Her pulse quickened at the passing thought of how little clothing was covering them, one slip of the blanket resulting in her being completely naked in front of him. _Again_.

"Noah," she whimpered, her one hand gripping the blanket but dropping to halt his torturous trail on the skin of her abdomen. "Wait."

Puck closed his eyes tightly, forcing his lips and tongue off the skin of her neck even if he couldn't get himself to pull away completely. He hadn't meant for it to go any further than a tiny taste of her, but as he'd figured out only a little more than an hour ago, just a taste of Rachel Berry wasn't enough. It made even less sense when he considered that he was pretty sure he'd never forget exactly how she'd tasted … felt … sounded … looked …

"I know you are very much the strong and silent type, and I'm not naïve or stubborn enough to defend my tendency to prolong conversations that others would feel could be summed up in far fewer words …"

"Like now?"

She sighed pathetically, slowly turning back in his embrace so she was facing him. "Yes." Her eyes fell again even though he chuckled. "This is very new to me. Not just the …"

"Sex."

"Yes," she hissed. "But … I'm a planner, Noah. I don't just have my career goals mapped out or collegiate aspirations, but I know what I'm wearing tomorrow and what to cook for dinner Wednesday and exactly how long Thursday's trip to the grocery store will take."

"That's fucked."

"I didn't plan on you," she finally admitted, deciding to go against her own tendency and skip right to the point. "I've known you since that first day at temple after my family moved here. I've dealt with you calling me names and throwing slushies in my face and picking apart everything I said to make a lewd comment or make me sound foolish." She looked up, smiling a little when she noticed his hard but pained expression. "But you've also been my friend when no one else was, and stuck up for me when you didn't have to. I've seen a side of you that exhilarates me to think no one else has seen, and I've seen glimpses of not just the man you've become but of the man you don't even know you are yet."

"You're ramblin' again," he grunted out, clearly still not willing to accept compliments.

"I don't regret anything." Puck's grip on her hips tightened unconsciously. "But I'm afraid I'm more emotionally invested in everything that has transpired, and it would be remiss of me to not admit that I'm unsure my personality will allow me to continue living in the moment without any indication that … that you aren't feeling or could feel the same way."

For maybe the first time ever, Puck actually listened to every word Rachel had said. There were a lot of them in the last couple of minutes, and he'd naturally tripped up a few times for a handful of different reasons. But she held his attention not just because he'd been watching her mouth move or because the curve of the blanket had dipped dangerously low at her chest when she'd turned. He'd listened because he'd been wanting her to say those words (or a form of those words, even if he'd wished for shorter, simpler ones) for longer than he'd even realized.

They never would have worked out in sophomore year, for about a million different reasons. Their closeted feelings for other people was a good excuse, but the truth was they were too young to appreciate the differences between them. Yes, she was talkative and demanding and bat-shit crazy. And yes, he was crude and standoffish and a little sex crazed. But, for reasons that didn't make sense to him and certainly wouldn't make sense to anyone else, the two of them meshed. Sure, they didn't always tolerate each other and it wouldn't be a blissful union all the time, but he had this weird feeling that if any two people could make it work, it would be them.

"I didn't plan on you, either," he finally said, his left hand moving from her covered hip to her lower back, pulling her closer even though she'd only been mere inches away before. "But it's nothin' new for you to surprise the shit outta me." He let out an incredulous chuckle, his voice growing thicker as he spoke. "You're actually kinda hilarious and totally chill sometimes, which is sorta hot." She seemed to melt into him a little as he spoke, and he couldn't help but keep talking to her all while peppering the curve of her neck with soft, delicate kisses. "I still ain't ever gonna be good at the feelings shit, but I don't mind tellin' you stuff because when ya shut your trap, you're pretty easy to talk to; I trust you."

Rachel whimpered, unsure if it was from the way his teeth had grazed her earlobe or because of his words. When his tongue moved from the shell of her ear to the sensitive underside, she figured it was probably a little bit of both. She'd never expected Puck to share his feelings in a conventional manner, but she certainly wasn't opposed to his form of expression so far. Currently she was getting the best of both worlds, the physical aspect and the emotional aspect. She tried to keep her eyes open, making it impossible to get too lost in his touch that she wouldn't hear his words, but she couldn't stop them from fluttering shut when her hands lifted up to pressed against his exposed chest.

"Plus, you're so fuckin' sexy it hurts," he growled, her touch burning his insides. "Like, all the fuckin' time, too."

"Now?" She asked breathlessly.

"Fuck, yes."

Rachel pulled her eyes open, leaning away from him only to bravely let the blanket fall to the floor. "Now?"

Puck actually gulped, just nodding his head before his hands were back on her body, one running up her back while the other slid down the curve of her waist to her hip and then to her thigh. She let out one of those little noises that had driven him insane just a couple of hours ago, and he couldn't help the way he nudged her against the counter. His hand made contact with the still warm mug she'd left unattended by the microwave, and he decided there was probably more than one reason he shouldn't lift her up onto the flat surface. Rachel, however, clearly wanted the contact because she hiked the leg he'd been teasing up, curling it around him a little just to force him closer.

"S-shit," he stuttered, both hands moving to her face just as his mouth enclosed over hers. She opened her mouth willingly, sliding her tongue against his so invitingly that he couldn't believe he had to pull away. "Babe, wait." He kept his hold on her face strong so she wouldn't let him continue doing what he knew they shouldn't. "We can't." She blinked at him in surprise, and he couldn't help but kiss her briefly when she legit frowned. "We shouldn't. You … it'll hurt."

"It won't." She shook her head, looking at him eagerly. "It _didn't_. It was … incredibly satisfying."

Sue him, his chest puffed a little, his hands falling off her face and moving down her body and then back up to eventually toy with her ponytail. "I tried."

"I didn't expect it to feel so amazing. Everyone said …" She trailed off, not wanting to talk about anyone else. It was so late and the house was so dark that it felt like they were the last two people on Earth, and Rachel found herself actually liking that feeling. Loving it, maybe. "Does it always feel like this?"

"No," he answered hoarsely, the hand that had been playing with the loose hair by her neck moving so one finger trailed across her jawline. His thumb swept over her closed lips, Puck marveling in the softness of the flesh and the mixed emotions that coursed through him when she puckered them to kiss his thumb. His eyes locked with hers at that moment, and he couldn't help the words from tumbling out of his mouth. "Not for me."

Puck was short of breath. Not because he was panicking about possibly saying the gayest thing he'd ever uttered; in fact, he was oddly cool about that – see, he trusted her. But Rachel's reaction was causing his body to work double time. First she'd sighed softly, her warm breath dancing across his bare chest. Then she'd planted a hard, powerful kiss on his mouth that reminded him of the one she'd given him before they left the party. After that, she'd grabbed his hand and led him out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs – all naked, by the way. His mind and body were battling for control, his eyes nearly boggling out of his head trying to decide _which_ body part to hone in on during the journey while his brain was half dead and half fighting with itself that the stairs _were too_ a good place for them to have sex.

As soon as the door to her bedroom closed, a million different thoughts flowed through his mind. He could remember every time he'd been in this room, making fun of the color and decorations just to keep himself thinking about what he wanted to do to her. He recalled their make out sessions from sophomore year, their almost first time last year, and, most recently, the moment they shared just last week when he'd come asking for a whole lot more than just a haircut. He couldn't tell her yet, but he hadn't asked her not to go through with her plans with Finn because he wanted to be her first. He did, but it was more than that.

He wanted to be her last.

"Noah?" Rachel questioned, waiting until his eyes regained some focus and were back on her. Her lips parted to let out a soft gasp, the intensity in his gaze surprising her. She'd never seen his eyes look so clear, so pure. It answered all her questions and produced a million more, but he soon replaced the expression with a completely different one. One she _was_ familiar with, more so now than ever, and therefore wasn't shocked at all when his lips attacked hers and his hands moved to her hips. He used their position like a steering wheel, moving her a little bit to the left and then back until they were both falling onto the bed, a mix of mingled limbs.

He'd been so tender earlier. So patient and attentive. He'd let her make the next move at every single opportunity, encouraging her with strangled words and uncontrolled actions. It had made her apprehensions about the experience fall completely by the wayside, her primal instincts taking over instead. It was empowering, but now he was the one clearly in charge.

Puck pressed his lips against Rachel's incessantly, just like his body. He didn't want to squish her, but he also couldn't help himself from wanting every inch of him to touch every inch of her. And the way she withered against him and pleaded breathlessly wasn't exactly helping. The first time, he'd gone as slow as possible, almost painfully so. He'd still been expecting Rachel to stop them at one point, and he'd also known that he had to take his time building her up if she was going to enjoy it at all. And she had. She'd admitted it downstairs, and the two orgasms he'd given her were pretty clear evidence, too.

This time, though, it was more about him. He wanted her to feel good and whatever, obviously, but this was more about an urge, a need that he had that seemed stronger than it ever had before. And it wasn't just the release he needed. He wanted to hear her crumble around him, wanted to feel her walls quiver. He wanted to taste the sheen of sweat on her skin and see a look of sheer bliss etch her features without even a hint of pain. He wanted all of that for her, but for him. He needed it.

"Noah, please," she begged again, caught between wanting his lips on her and wanting him to do more than just kiss her. She lifted her feet to rest on her mattress, then bent her legs back even more so her toes could grasp the waistband of his boxers. She forced them down before he started to pull away, looking down at her questionably (and a bit surprised). Rachel hid her blushing cheeks at her forwardness with a coy smile, lifting onto her elbows and then reaching into the bedside table for one of the small foil packages she'd had hidden inside.

"Fuck," he cursed, so turned on that he couldn't process what the right move was in this scenario. She was looking at him with such a desperate, hot expression and when she held out the condom toward him, he couldn't help himself; he quickly grabbed it from her and ripped the package open, rolling the protection over his length before leaning back down to devour her mouth. He let his tongue act as a preview for what he was about to do to her, then he settled all his weight on one arm so the other could trail down her lithe frame. He slid his middle finger across her slit slowly, his head sagging to her shoulder and a long, guttural sound escaping from low in his throat. "You're soaked."

Rachel squirmed in embarrassment, calling out a little when the action caused one of his fingers to brush against her clit. "I'm ready," she announced, thinking it were obvious but wanting to be thorough. The foreplay had been nice the first time, and she'd read that it helped ease the pain of the penetration (and he'd clearly known that as well), but she didn't need it this time. She just needed him. "Now."

Puck groaned again, biting the spot on her shoulder where his head had just been resting before picking himself back up. He looked into her eyes to make sure she knew what she was saying, and the way those big, chocolate brown eyes stared back at him begged him nearer. They didn't even close when he thrust into her, his own falling halfway as he was still trying to get used to how tight she was. Rachel, however, wasn't as patient, lifting her hips up and damn near killing him in the process.

"Fuck, B." He ground into her, his composure coming back when a long, strangled moan of her own echoed in the otherwise quiet room. She met him in the middle of his next thrust, her nails digging into his sides a little at the contact. He couldn't help but smirk, bending down to plant a quick kiss on her lips before rolling over so their positions were switched. She blinked at him in surprise, her hands heavy against his chest to keep her steady. "Move."

Rachel stared blankly at him, her cheeks reddening. "I don't … I don't know how."

Puck rolled his eyes, hinging forward and slanting his lips over hers. His hands rested on her hips, and just like she'd done downstairs at the piano bench and a few days ago in his bedroom, Rachel's hips began to rock against his. She gasped as the new wave of pleasure coursed through her, smiling a little at his own grin before pushing back against his chest so they returned to the original position. She bit her lip in concentration, which was super hot because it was also really cute. And he didn't even care if that sounded gay, because the cuteness quickly flew out the window and was replaced with only super, super sexy behavior.

Rachel toyed with several different motions, circling her hips, moving up and down, rotating in a figure eight motion. She finally found a combination that seemed to satisfy her (and was definitely working for him), and Puck's eyes fell shut when her back arched and her hands lifted from his chest to her own. His moan mixed with what he'd come to describe as a mewl, his one hand gripping her hip a little tighter while the other moved so he could bring her closer to the edge. He was already so close and when his thumb swept across that hidden bundle of nerves, Rachel called out so loudly that he knew she was right there with him.

"Noah," she panted, her head falling back. The burning sensation that she'd only just become acquainted with was moving quicker now, leaving her center and coursing through the bloodstream of her extremities. She felt her body gyrate faster in an effort to chase the feeling, her eyes slamming shut when she caught it. Her breath hitched and she couldn't help but fall forward, her insides melting as Puck circled his arms around her waist and then slammed into her from underneath. "F-fuck."

Puck wasn't sure if it was her orgasm that pulled him over the edge or the hot as hell way he'd been able to make her not just stutter but curse, but it didn't matter. He just held her tightly against him, nearly gasping for air as they both tried to regain their breath. His hands felt slick on her back, and he couldn't help the way his tongue came out to taste the sweat that had formed on her perfect, olive skin. She didn't seem to mind, though, a satisfied sigh sweeping across his own damp skin before she settled deeper into him. Regrettably, Puck had to pull away, shedding the condom and throwing it into the small trashcan by her desk before turning back to see her waiting to snuggle back up.

"Stay," she announced, trimming the amount of words she'd spoken just a little bit ago with her simple command. And even though he'd heard the words before and usually scoffed at the notion (especially when paired with the cuddling), at that moment there was nothing he wanted to do more. "You wore me out."

A small chuckle escaped as he repositioned himself next to her, sighing at the way her body molded to his. "Really?"

Rachel giggled, too, her chin resting on his chest and a smile playing on her lips when he looked down at her in question. "Legit."


	20. Talk to Me

**Author's Note:** I'm having "one of those days" (for like, all week) and really just need to hear from people who don't make me want to strangle myself. That's where you guys come in. You're all so awesome with the reading and reviewing, so I'm rewarding you with a chapter I just finished. Thank you so much, and enjoy (and then let me know what you thought of it and think of what's happening/going to happen so I have something cool to read later).

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><p>Rachel's ears were still ringing, the applause from the auditorium louder than she'd ever heard it before. The group's reception at Nationals after their set was pretty phenomenal and in a much bigger arena, but something about the tonight's performance seemed to garner a lot more enthusiasm from the audience. And she didn't want to assume it was all because of her – OK. That was actually exactly what she liked to do – but everyone had been loudest when she'd been asked to bow at the end of the show. Plus, she'd had to spend an extra half-hour thanking people for all their kind words compared to last night, so clearly something had been different about tonight's performance compared to opening night.<p>

"Looks like Artie hit the nail on the head, aye Midget?"

Rachel turned from her spot at the vanity, her eyes honing in on the Latina. She was still in costume and looking as good as ever, but Rachel tried not to let the girl's appearance intimidate her. "You are a mere two inches taller than I, Santana." She looked down, noticing the sexy red heels on the Latina's feet. "A few more courtesy of your costume."

"Costume? I brought these from home." Santana looked down at her feet, checking them out from different angles with a widening smile. "Miss P tried to get me to wear some shitty granny heels, but I convinced Artie to give me some creative licensing on the wardrobe."

"Yes. And let me venture a guess as to how you managed that." Rachel rolled her eyes, noting Santana's plunging neckline and bright red lipstick as two obvious clues.

"I'd watch your tone, Hobbit," Santana sneered. "I'm not the only slut in this room." Rachel tried to ignore the comment again, but her silence just verified what the Latina already knew. "Don't be shy, Berry. I just didn't think you had it in you." Santana's eyes roamed over Rachel's body slowly. "It's kind of hot."

Rachel squirmed a little, clearing her throat. "Be it as it may, I don't particularly care for the offensive choice of words."

"I'm sure you made him buy you dinner first. Christ." Santana rolled her eyes, running one hand over her clean, tight updo. "I was _trying_ to pay you a compliment or whatever. You've done a lot of stupid shit over the years, but this makes up for most of it." Her smile became almost catlike. "When it comes to guys, Puck's the best. And, believe me, I've tested the theory."

Rachel's nose lifted in disgust, not wanting to have this conversation and _certainly_ not wanting to have it with Santana. She knew Puck wasn't a virgin or anything even close, but that didn't mean Rachel couldn't believe that what they had shared had been special. Just because it wasn't his first, it didn't have to mean it was unlike anything he'd shared with anyone else, including the Latina. And from what she'd previously heard about Puck and his conquests and what Rachel knew had transpired between them, she knew it had be different. It had meant something.

"Did he go down on you?" Santana asked suddenly, bending down a little to check her makeup in the vanity mirror. She must have seen Rachel's blushing cheeks over her shocked expression, the Latina's catlike grin returning. "You're welcome, bitch. I taught him everything he knows." Then she paused, lifting back to her usual straight posture, her perfectly manicured eyebrows knitting together while her hands rested on her hips. "I wonder if that should have been a red flag or something."

Rachel didn't want to reward Santana's inappropriate conversation, but she couldn't help but smile a little at how quizzical the Latina seemed at that moment, clearly going back through her sexual history for other clues of her lesbianism. "How is Brittany?"

"She's great. She taught _me_ a few things, actually. This one time …"

"No!" Rachel actually shouted, shaking her head. "No, no I didn't mean …" She trailed off, mostly in embarrassment but partially because she couldn't even fathom saying the words. "I meant, how is she doing? Well?"

Santana crossed her arms over her chest, sneering at the seated brunette. "If we're not going to talk about sex, then I'm done with you."

Rachel blinked as the Latina spun on her heels and immediately left. Her exit wasn't exactly unwelcome considering the topic of conversation, but in the back of her mind Rachel wondered if she should make more of an effort to be friendly with Santana. After all, the Latina and Noah were obviously close, in the way that any guy is close to his friends. However, that thought as well as a good portion of her oxygen was ripped from her lungs when a much taller figure appeared from behind the vanity, a shocked expression on his face.

"Finn," she breathed, not needing to ask if he'd overheard the conversation. "I'm sorry. I hadn't wanted you to find out like …"

"So it's true?"

Rachel shook her head, not ashamed just wishing she'd been given the chance to formulate a more proper way to inform him of the news. "Yes."

"Wow." Obviously he was surprised, but it was the disappointment on his face that Rachel paid most attention to. "I mean … I know I have no right because I'm sorta moving on, too, and you'd made it kinda obvious that you two were … " He trailed off, uncomfortable with whatever would have finished that sentence. "But … wow."

"I can understand your surprise," she explained calmly, evenly, "however, I fail to comprehend the other emotions that are clearly evident."

Finn frowned, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets nervously. "I just … I know you're not my girlfriend anymore, and that's cool. But, we're friends still, right?" He waited until she nodded. "I worry about you, and this … did you talk to Kurt about this?"

"Frankly I don't believe it is anyone else's business outside of Noah and myself," she stated in as level of a voice as she could manage. Finn didn't need to know that she'd gone to both Kurt and Blaine regarding the rate at which her and Noah's relationship was moving. It was hard enough to put Kurt in the middle of things when she and Finn were dating; she certainly didn't want him stuck in between the triangle. "But I appreciate your concern."

"Look, Rach …" He didn't let it go despite the golden (and rare) opportunity she'd given him. "I think you and Puck together is kind of crazy but maybe in a good way. I told him at the after party that you seem happier now, and I'm not dumb enough to assume that doesn't have anything to do with him. But … I mean, _we dated_. I know how you feel about these kinds of things and …" He gulped, his eyes falling down to avoid her hard stare. "If he pressured you or something, you can tell me."

Rachel wasn't one to bite her tongue, but she did her best to remain calm – even if she had to mash her teeth together and speak through a fake smile. "I assure you, Noah did nothing of the sort."

"Oh." This seemed to surprise, confuse, and disappoint him even more, and Rachel's fake smile quickly faded. "OK."

"OK," she mimicked, her voice tense. "Thank you for coming again, Finn, but I must head out now."

Finn stumbled into his next sentence, but she honestly wasn't listening. Rachel heard him say something about her performance being super awesome and mentioning coming tonight for Quinn, but she had to leave. She was so mad that she could barely see straight, and she didn't care if it was rude or not. _He'd _been the rude one, which was exactly what she'd told Kurt and Blaine before she'd stomped toward her silver Prius. She didn't even bother waiting for the car to warm up like she normally did, instead just shifting into drive and going to the one and only place that came to mind.

She managed to screw her fake smile back on when his mother greeted her at the door, her voice over-the-top bright as she tossed a greeting to Sarah on her way up to Puck's room. Rachel didn't bother knocking, rather just swung the door open and then fell against it just to keep herself from slamming it closed. He looked up at her strangely from his spot on his bed, his back resting against the headboard while his fingers toyed with the strings of his guitar. He didn't stop playing whatever tune he'd been working on, but he moved all of his attention to her when he seemed to sense her mood.

"Hey, babe. Ya cool?"

"No," she growled, pushing off of the door just to immediately start pacing. "I'm _not_ cool. I'm … I'm … indignant!"

"Bad show?"

"No, of course not." She huffed. "It was even better than last night, in fact, which is a detail that everyone seems to assume is on account of my so-called sexual rehabilitation." She stopped, squaring her body to face his. "Did you tell Santana about what happened?" She sighed when he shook his head. "Then _how _did she … excuse me? What is so funny?"

Puck chuckled into his response, "I toldja." He smirked when she just stared harder. "You're walkin' different."

"Differently," she corrected with a scowl, resuming her pacing. "And regardless, I don't believe that is enough indication to just _assume_. Santana just has some insane radar for this type of situation, and it's _all_ her fault that Finn found out."

This got him to stop playing, his hands gripping the instrument tightly. He was walking a tightrope, dealing with a clearly pissed off Rachel Berry but also his own heightened emotions. Rage was certainly at the forefront because he already knew without her saying anything that she and Finn clearly had a confrontation over the new information; it was none of Hudson's business if and who Rachel was sleeping with. However, a different emotion seemed even stronger than his anger, which was new for him. Normally punching something made everything feel better, but in this case only her answer would help the situation - or make it worse, depending on what she said.

"Ya don't want Finn to know?"

Rachel stopped abruptly, turning from her spot across the room to stare at him. Instantly she felt her indignation roll down her shoulders, replaced with a feeling close to awe. She cocked her head an inch to the left, her eyes softening before she shook her head. Tentatively, she walked to the foot of his bed, lifting one knee to the mattress and resting her weight on it while she lifted the other knee to the surface and then rested her weight on the heels of her feet. She kept her eyes solely on him, even though his were darting around nervously.

"That's not my point, Noah," she explained softly. "I simply would have preferred to have told him myself, instead of him being ambushed with the news by Santana." Then her eyebrows furrowed, her chin ticking up a fraction of an inch as some of the anger from before returned "The girl who _he_ slept with because he'd assumed I'd had sex with Jesse, and then lied about it for _months_." She shook her head incredulously. As if Finn had any rate to be disappointed in Rachel's choices. "Would you believe he asked me if I'd spoken to Kurt beforehand? As if I needed permission from someone else to make _my own_ decision on the matter?"

Puck shrugged emptily. "I can't blame the guy."

"I beg your pardon?" She barked. "You're _defending_ him?"

"I ain't sayin' he wasn't stickin' his nose where it don't belong, but I get that he's pissed." He shrugged again, this time self-consciously. "I don't have the best track record, babe."

Rachel shook her head vehemently. "No. He has _no_ right. He has no right to confront me about such a private matter, claiming he _knew_ me and therefore assuming my decision was irrational if not solely my own." She crept up the bed, her hands on either side of his body until she'd settled on his lap. "Moreover, to be so presumptuous as to assume you'd somehow forced me to make such a decision is not only ridiculous and extremely offensive, but speaks volumes to just how little he knows not just me but _you_."

Her hands fell to the loose fabric of his T-shirt as soon as he moved the guitar to rest against the side of the bed. "Anyone who can't see how much you've changed in the past year, I'm sorry to say, should be examined for mental health reasons. You are nothing like the boy you were in sophomore year." She bit her lip, but continued talking. "You're a man now. You've managed to mold yourself into this perfect combination of those two different sides of your personality, salvaging those insufferable traits that make you both intolerable and incredibly alluring at the same time while also cultivating the more socially accepted aspects of yourself. Moreover, the side of you that _I've_ seen is beyond all those measures, flourishing so naturally and honestly that I can't help but fall for you more and mor ..."

She squeaked in surprise when her lips were suddenly covered by his, his tongue intruding the moist cavern of her mouth before she'd even realized she'd opened it up to him. Frankly, it was a habit of hers with him that she wasn't quite used to. Normally Rachel was so guarded with her own feelings; product of being bullied from such a young age and having her heart stomped on numerous times by boys and her own mother, Rachel didn't exactly wear her heart on her sleeve. Noah was actually very much the same way, though she'd started to notice that he might be experiencing the same openness with her that she was with him.

Puck's hands gripped her hips, doing nothing but keep her as close as possible to him while he continued to kiss her senseless. She didn't know what had provoked such a passionate response; it wouldn't surprise her if he just wanted her to stop talking. However, she also wasn't going to stop the embrace, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and enjoying the languid pace he'd set. His kisses usually were filled with urgency, something she wasn't exactly used to but enjoyed because it gave her a sense of need that she hadn't felt before. Like he _had_ to kiss her or something terrible would happen. This kiss, though it began with that pulsating need, turned into something much more powerful, sensual almost.

He broke away from her, his breath heavy and ragged as he rested his forehead against hers. He kept his touch on her hips light but present, toying with the hemline of her shirt as he regained his breath and forced him say the words that he'd originally tried to express physically. "I've had dozens of chicks say some of the dirtiest shit to me, Berry. But that …" He leaned back, his hands falling to the bottom of her thighs once his back hit the headboard. "That took the cake for hottest fuckin' thing ever."

Rachel blushed deeply, her gaze courageously refusing to falter. "Like what kinds of things?"

"Ya know, just what they wanna do to me." He shrugged, partially uncomfortable talking to Rachel about his sexual past and partially uncomfortable because of Rachel's effect on his sexual present. "What they want me to do to them."

Rachel nodded her head just slightly, swinging her one leg over his body and then placing both feet back on the floor. Crossing the room until she reached his door, Rachel turned the lock and then looked back at his form on the bed. She couldn't help the shy smile that fell onto her lips at his confused expression turning into one of pure desire and then hurled into shock when she tossed her shirt onto the ground in a flash. She could see the lust in his gaze even in the distance, but she saw so much more than that; and that had been her point.

She hadn't said what she said to trick him into reciprocating any of her affection nor had her words been fabricated out of her heightened disapproval of Finn's understanding. She'd said what she'd said because it was true, and Rachel hoped that one day soon Noah would be able to see that. Much like her, however, he had past wounds that need healed. He might have changed a lot in the past two years, but he was really just starting his journey of discovering who he was in comparison to who he'd been. And the insecurities would no doubt linger for some time, but Rachel just wanted to be the one he looked to when he needed reminded of who he was.

And, well, she also wanted to be the only one he looked to when he was looking at someone the way he was currently looking at her.

"So," she began coyly, pushing away from the door just when he'd finally regained some movement of his own and had scooted to the foot of the bed. "What do you want to do to me?"

Puck groaned, his head sagging a little and his hands harshly gripping the blanket resting haphazardly on top of his mattress. "Fuck my life." He blew out a hard breath. "I can't believe I haveta say this shit, but … put your shirt back on."

Rachel blinked once. Then again. "What?"

He sprung from the bed in a matter of milliseconds, his hands strong on her lower back just like his lips were strong on her own. He pressed her core directly into his just so she'd completely understand how much he didn't want to have said the previous sentence, his tongue sweeping over hers almost pleadingly. She felt weak by the time he pulled back, her hands clutching the fabric of his T-shirt just to keep her balance while he ended the passionate embrace with pointed kisses to her lips and then finally to her temple.

"Ya say Ma ain't crazy, right?"

Rachel nodded, accepting her shirt that he'd bent down to retrieve. She replaced the garment somewhat embarrassingly, but took comfort in his lingering touch when he moved his left arm to rest across her shoulders. He used his other hand to quietly unlock the door, then turned the knob and swung the door open. Standing on the other side of his room, caught off guard by their sudden appearance, was Mrs. Puckerman.

"Oh, hello!" She said brightly. "I was just … coming up to see if you two wanted any snacks."

Puck rolled his eyes, chuckling a little as he shook his head. "We're good, Ma." Then he tightened his hold on Rachel's shoulders, her body nestling into his side. "We're actually gonna head to Rachel's house. We're doin' a duet for Glee on Monday and it might take all night to finish."

"All night?" Mrs. Puckerman questioned, looking to Rachel for reassurance.

"Yes, Mrs. Puckerman." Rachel smiled brightly, innocently, even though she was well aware that Noah's mother would agree to anything that kept her son with a talented Jewish girl. "I'm admittedly a perfectionist and with so little time to work on the duet between the musical and Noah's work schedule, I'm afraid we'll be working into the late hours." Then she discreetly nudged Noah just so he'd stop smiling. "My fathers updated my room quite some time ago so it was soundproof, which will allow us to work freely into the night without disturbing anyone, as we would here."

"Yea, ya know how loud Rachel can get."

Rachel scowled up at him before accepting Mrs. Puckerman's gracious acceptance and hug goodbye. The two teens bid farewell to Sarah and then piled into Rachel's car. It didn't take Puck more than a few seconds once they'd pulled out of his house's driveway before he moved his hand from the console to her thigh – and dangerously high on it, at that. Rachel tried to appear stern when she looked at him through her periphery, not willing to increase the chance of a wreck even in the short distance from his house to her own.

"If this is buggin' you, then you're sure as shit don't want to hear what I got planned for your question from earlier." His fingers danced on her tights-covered inner thigh. "You're lucky I ain't makin' ya pull the car over and takin' you in the backseat."

Rachel kept her eyes forward but blushed profusely even as she pressed on the gas pedal a little harder. It seemed very un-Rachel like, but perhaps the reason Finn didn't exactly know her was because even _she_ hadn't figured it all out yet.


	21. Grease the Wheels

**Author's Note:** I know. I've been gone for way too long (at least for me!). But work has been crazy this week and that is where I shamefully do almost ALL my writing. LOL! Regardless, it's the weekend (can I get an amen?) and I have almost nothing on the docket. So maybe, _just maybe,_ I'll get to sit down with my pal the laptop and crank out some chapters because things are moving fast in my head now that we have the Puckleberry and just need to figure out what to do with them. I'm sure you have some ideas. Hahaha!

**HUGE** thanks to everyone reading and reviewing and waiting patiently. I always appreciate the feedback (both good and bad), so thanks! And enjoy!

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><p>Puck rubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead, keeping the sweat from falling into his eyes but failing to consider that he'd just made the mess worse because his hands were also covered in oil and grime. It didn't really matter, though. Everyone else working at the shop looked the same, and he was currently lying under a car and wasn't going to have any contact with the customers today. Plus, there was only a half hour left before the shop closed for the day. Puck was always appreciative of the hours Burt threw his way, but he was definitely happy the garage closed early on Sundays.<p>

He was less happy, however, about the fact that Finn kept glaring at him since he'd stopped by, and was refusing to leave even though he wasn't working today. They'd actually joked around and stuff yesterday like they used to do in the summer when they'd been working together, but apparently that was ancient history after what had happened last night. Or, rather, what Finn had learned about last night. And Puck might have sort of defended Finn's attitude to Rachel and been able to calm her down and take her mind off it all – in the best possible way – but he'll be damned if he had to walk on eggshells in front of Finn Hudson.

Which is why when he rolled out from under the car and Finn was practically breathing down his neck, Puck couldn't help himself. "The fuck's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," he responded like a typical seven-year-old kid who was pouting but refusing to tell you why.

"Whatever."

Puck didn't have time for this. Well, he did, actually. Rachel's dads were back in town and they'd made plans to see her matinee performance of _West Side Story _followed by a late lunch. She'd invited him to stop by later when she knew they'd be at home playing games, but Puck had declined. He wasn't exactly ready for the whole _meet the parents_ spectacle and certainly didn't want to sit in the living room playing Monopoly or some shit when he'd know just the night before he and Rachel were doing less than family-friendly things in the same space – sue him, but he hadn't been lying to her; she's lucky they'd made it inside the house after that insanely hot display of voyeurism in his bedroom.

"You."

"S'cuse me?" Puck asked, using a hand towel dirtier than his hands to try to wipe his palms clean as he turned back to his friend.

"_You_ are my problem," Finn repeated, looking left and right as if the conversation they were about to have was any worse than some of the shit Tommy and the other guys jawed about during their shifts. "I talked to Rachel last night."

"Me too," he leered, just to be an ass.

Finn huffed. "Dude. She's _different_. You can't just treat her like …"

"Like what?" Puck snarled, stepping closer out of reflex. "Like a golden ticket into a good school to take care of a kid I thought was mine? Like a prize to be won by song? Like a step down in the social food chain? Like …"

"Like a piece of trash!" Finn shouted, pushing Puck out of his space.

Puck immediately shoved Finn back, and within seconds the boys were in the middle of a fight that quickly earned the attention of the two other guys working. They didn't stop the fight, however, and simply watched Finn try to bring Puck to the ground by grabbing him around the waist. Puck insulted his takedown skills and retaliated by putting the taller teen into a tight headlock. They battled back and forth until they lost their balance trying to avoid hitting the car or any of the equipment, Finn landing on top of Puck. The tall teen used the position to his advantage, landing one decent shot to Puck's left eye before Burt came and literally dragged Finn off Puck.

"What the hell is going on here?" Burt shouted, still holding Finn while the two other guys made sure Puck stayed away now that the boss was watching.

"Nothing new. Finn's always been a little bitch."

"Puck!" Burt reprimanded loudly, turning back to hope the waiting customer hadn't heard any of the commotion before honing in on the boy next to him. "Finn, what's going on?"

"Nothing new," Finn snapped back, using Puck's same words. "Puck's always used his dick more than his brain."

"I wasn't the only one usin' my dick last night," he stated crudely, shoving out of the way and toward the locker where he'd thrown his jacket. Rage was dripping from his pores, but inside all he felt was a strong twinge of guilt and something else. It sort of felt like how he did when he wanted a chili cheese corndog so bad that he'd break into a closed fast food joint to get one. Only stronger. Both had everything to do with Rachel, and he wasn't dumb enough not to recognize that fact.

Wordlessly, Puck left the shop, knowing Burt would rather him take off fifteen minutes early instead of stick around and stew while Papa Hummel no doubt had a stern talking-to with his stepson. He'd get his later, no doubt, which was fine by him. He still needed the job, but he needed to get as far away from those inside as possible. Unfortunately, Puck didn't make it more than a few feet away from the garage before he saw the bright shine of fake blonde hair glistening in the November sun. Even in the distance he could see Sam's confusion at why he wasn't working, but it became even more evident as he pedaled closer and closer.

"Hey,"Same greeted casually if not hesitantly. "What time is it?"

"Time to get the fuck outta here." Puck sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket and pulling the two sides closed to fend off the cool air. "Whatcha doin' here?"

"I'm working with Finn on a song for glee." His smile widened to somewhere closer to normal. "And I was hoping to catch you in the process. Right now it is me, Mike, Finn, and maybe Artie but probably not. The song would be perfect for you, though." Puck cocked an eyebrow up, enough to signal that he was at least listening. "Cedes thinks I'm romanticizing what we had and I'll soon see she isn't worth all the trouble or some crap. So, we're preparing a performance for tomorrow of that new OneDirection song and …"

"No."

Sam still had his mouth open, the rest of his breath coming out in a heavy puff. "Come on, man. It's perfect. Remember? I told you Rachel doesn't think she's sexy. The lyrics play right into that."

Puck hummed as if he were now considering Sam's proposal, but then his face immediately went hard again. "Still no." He managed to pat Sam's shoulder on his exit, sidestepping the blonde's bike and the shouted plea for him to think about while walking left down the street. It wasn't the shortest walk from the garage to Rachel's house, but with everything that happened between him and Finn and even Sam's words on his mind, Puck couldn't help but want to at least stop by and see her. That sounded gay, so he rationalized it by knowing it was probably best she heard about what happened from him (and what he said, since it could definitely be taken in the wrong way) instead of from someone else (read: Finn).

He had second thoughts almost immediately after ringing the doorbell, conveniently forgetting that Rachel wasn't alone in the house. Her dads had always been pretty nice to him, but that was when they just knew him as the Puckerman boy from temple. Now he was the guy visiting their teenage daughter, which was enough to set off the alarms in their heads without them knowing his not-so-decent reputation. Just as the door opened, he made a mental note to keep his literally greasy hands off of Rachel's body. Evidence, and all.

"Oh. Good afternoon, Noah," Hiram Berry greeted, smiling cordially as he opened the door even more and stepped to the right. "Would you like to come in?"

"Uh, yea." Puck stepped in the house, more nervous than he expected as Hiram tried to inconspicuously examine the bruise that was forming on Puck's left eye. "Is Rachel around?"

The perfect actress, Rachel bounced down the stairs on cue, smiling brightly even if he saw her eyes tick in concern at the same spot Leroy was looking at as he approached. The four talked about Rachel's performance and Puck actually gulped when her fathers asked if he'd come on Friday and Rachel had the balls to throw him _that_ smile. Chick was trying to get him buried in the backyard, but luckily he'd recovered with his balls in place and then Rachel explained their planned duet before dragging him upstairs so he could take an actual breath and shit.

"That was cold, woman."

Rachel smiled softly, but her giggle was lost in concern as she led him to her adjoining bathroom and sat him on the toilet while she riffled through the medicine cabinet for the first aid kit. He was going to guess there wasn't a steak in there for a few reasons, but he didn't care enough to joke about it. The bruise was starting to sting a little, and he sort of liked that she worried about him. Maybe that made him a queer, but it was nice to be cared for once in awhile. He'd been the man of the house for so long that he legit couldn't remember the last time someone had really taken the time to do something for him because he'd needed it – or maybe he couldn't remember the last time he'd let anyone.

"Great first impression, huh?"

"They've met you before, Noah," she reasoned once she pulled out an ice pack, working the bag until it became cold.

He scoffed, partially hiding the hiss he'd let out when the frozen bag touched his skin. "S'different now."

"Yes, but they don't know that yet." Her eyes were intent on his wound, purposefully so. "We haven't really discussed everything yet, especially regarding school tomorrow, so …"

It hurt, but Puck narrowed his eyes, his fists clenching on his knees. Sam's words echoed in his mind, but so did Finn's. He could hear the tall teen accusing him of treating Rachel like trash – implying he was using her for sex just like every other girl he'd ever been with. But nothing compared to hearing the same thing coming from Rachel. After everything that was said and _clearly_ meant, she still didn't trust that this was something real. She didn't trust that he actually wanted her, and for more than just her body. She didn't trust _him_.

"This is bullshit," he barked, pushing her hand and the cold pack away from his face with one hand and pushing on his knee to stand with the other. "Ya just wanted to fuck? Get it done right on the first try?" He questioned harshly, moving out of the bathroom and into the bedroom so he'd have more room to pace; he couldn't stay in that small space with her. It felt like he was suffocating. "Good ol' reliable Puck doin' the only thing he knows how to do right for perfect, little Rachel Berry."

"I'm not perfect," she whispered.

Puck stopped and looked at her, standing by the doorframe of the bathroom but barely visible. She was practically shrunken inside of herself, her eyes set down and focused on her bare feet moving absently across the soft carpet. Her hands wrung in front of her, the chocolate strands of her hair waving from side to side as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry if my actions have hurt you, but you must understand my motivation." She dared to look up at him, her head immediately shooting back down at his silent but hard gaze. "I'm not like Santana or Quinn. And I know you've claimed to like me anyway, but I didn't want to tell my fathers about everything yet because … I'm scared." This time she looked up and bravely kept her eyes on him. "I know just how quickly everything can change and how fast this all happened and how strong I feel about it …" She bit her lip, shrugging one of her shoulders emptily. "I'm not nearly superstitious enough to utter anything about jinxing anything, but I liken it more to the lyrics from the duet. As long as your mine …"

"I love you."

Rachel's mouth shut on a snap, her eyebrows knitting together as she clearly tried to push away whatever she'd been preparing to say and instead focus on what Puck had _not_ prepared to say. He'd thought it before, even considered saying it out loud a couple of times – legit, it was on the tip of his tongue last night during round two of the second best night of his life and Rachel was bound and determined to perfect the art of talking dirty - but he'd always chickened out. But now that he said it, he couldn't take it back and he certainly couldn't pretend like it wasn't as big of a deal as it was. For fuck's sake. He was Puckasaurus and only three days into the whole thing he was putting his dick between his legs and declaring his love for the broad?

"Pumpkin," Hiram announced merrily as he pushed the semi-closed door open and evaluated the two teenagers. He seemed pleased about the distance between them, but the silence he'd interrupted was clearly just as unnerving to him as it was the two of them. "Will Noah be joining us for game night?"

Rachel blinked a few times, as if coming out of her trance, but never let her eyes fall off Noah's. "Daddy wants to order Chinese later," she said enticingly, adding onto the clear invitation that was obviously Puck's decision. And, honestly, he thought about saying no. He could make up something and no one would question him because he hadn't planned on stopping by regardless. But, even scarier than saying the words out loud was the fact that Puck wasn't ashamed of them. He'd meant them for probably the first time in his whole life, and just the fact that she didn't laugh in his face or scoff and call him a Lima Loser was a step in the right direction.

He nodded subtlety, still not ready to open his mouth again, and watched as Rachel nodded, too, and then walked up to his side. She slipped one of her tiny hands into his and then curled the other around the same arm's bicep, looking over at her father with a wide smile. "Yes, Father. My boyfriend, Noah, would love to join the festivities."

Puck smirked at her declaration, and at the deer-in-headlights expression on Hiram's face before he recovered and then stumbled out of her bedroom. Rachel giggled lightly at his side, her head resting against his shoulder as she sighed. And even though he wondered if she didn't say the words back because she didn't feel them or because her father had interrupted them, Puck was actually happy she didn't. He was still sort of pissed about everything that had happened with Finn, and _for once _he didn't want the tall teen to have anything to do with his and Rachel's relationship.

Plus, the unashamed way she'd come clean with her dad paired with the adoring look in her eye before she'd lifted to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek was pretty much just as good. And the sultry sound of her voice whispering in his ear that she'd make sure they'd have some alone time later wasn't too shabby either.


	22. Inside the Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:** This story feels like it is moving even more slowly than before now that we have our the happy togetherness time, but this is really just the water boiling below the surface (at least that's the plan). Regardless, this chapter is an adorable counterpoint to last chapter, and I'm really trying to work on the next few updates as well as outlining the whole story so I can get an idea of how long this beast is going to be.

In the meantime, I want to just say thank you to all those still reading and definitely those still leaving reviews. Totally flattering and always appreciated. And, other than pointing out the disclaimer at the end of the chapter, I want to say please enjoy and let me know what you think!

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><p>Rachel smiled softly at the desperate expression Sam tossed her way as Quinn tried everything in her arsenal to keep the blonde boy's attention. She did feel bad for him, but she had a lot of other things on her mind. Specifically the conversation her and Noah had at lunch, which went in a completely different direction than she'd expected. She thought he <em>wanted<em> her to be sexy, adventurous. And he made her feel like a different person, so she still couldn't understand why he'd been so against her suggestion that they skip lunch and feed a different type of hunger. In fact, it was a line she'd stolen from him from all the way back in sophomore year so he should have been even more on board.

Instead, all he'd done was look at her skeptically and question her motives. As if having a sexy, closeted-romantic boyfriend wasn't reason enough to want to find somewhere to be alone so she could have him all to herself. Noah, however, had informed her – in a less than pleasant timbre even if he'd punctuated the end of his sentence with a gentle caress – that he wasn't particularly attracted to fake perfect Rachel. He'd implied she was playing the part of Puck's girlfriend instead of just being the chick he actually didn't hate hanging out with. And now, hours later, Rachel was still trying to convince herself that he was mistaken.

There definitely was a part of her that felt uninhibited in his presence. She'd never been particularly comfortable with public displays of affection, but there was something empowering about walking down the halls of McKinley High with Noah's arm slung over her shoulders – even with all the questioning looks from their classmates. Plus, after such an intimate weekend together, she'd found it much more difficult to resist the urge to kiss or touch him whenever she pleased. She would have thought her attempts to show this would have been enticing to Noah. He'd been frustrated last night when she'd admitted her insecurities regarding Quinn and Santana, but it was no secret that he was used to a certain caliber of women. She didn't see the harm in trying to act more like them when it came to showing affection.

"What have I told you about wrinkles?" Kurt bemoaned as he came up to her study hall table, taking the seat across from her. "And last I checked you have nothing to frown about."

Rachel rolled her eyes, listening to the same track Kurt had been playing since second period. Men might not pick up on subtlety very well, but gay men clearly were excluded from that generalization. He'd first claimed to not have seen her since he and Blaine had taken her and Puck to the Berry house after the after party, to which she'd shot down saying she'd saw him the next day _and_ the day at the musical. He hadn't been amused by her literal interpretation of his words, but luckily the lesson the teacher had planned kept both of them busy enough that she'd left class unscathed. This was obviously round two in his attempts, and Rachel was just as interested in gossiping as she'd been then.

"Last _I_ checked, you don't have a free period right now."

Kurt's lips twitched up. "Someone's awfully touchy … or so I hear."

"I'm not in the mood for this, Kurt."

"Well let me help take your mind off things." He dropped his shoulder bag onto the table, removing the strap from across his chest and then leaning over onto the accessory, his head propped up by hand hands. "What's going on with you and Puck?"

She sighed again, now wishing she'd saved Sam from Quinn earlier so Kurt _maybe _wouldn't have had the opportunity to bring up her love life. Kurt definitely had stake in the crazy Sam-Mercedes-Quinn-Finn saga, and it wouldn't surprise her if this conversation eventually connected to his piqued curiosity regarding the love rectangle. There wasn't a lot of time left in the period, but she knew better than to underestimate him. "I think you of all people should respect the concept that our relationship is a private matter."

"Privacy went out the window when my stepbrother came home yesterday complaining about a headache he got from rolling on the cement fighting with your boy toy."

Rachel's eyes widened, her previously solemn expression morphing to showcase several different emotions, confusion at the top of the list. Puck hadn't mentioned that his black eye had come from a fight with Finn; her fathers had asked about it and he'd shrugged both of them off, claiming it was nothing. She'd taken his words at face value, knowing the garage wasn't the safest workplace nor was Puck the most conventional gym rat, picking fight clubs over lifting weights. Now that she knew the confrontation had been with Finn and that Puck had hidden that fact from her, she wasn't sure whom to confront first.

"Before you go too far down the rabbit hole, might I remind you that I'm still waiting for _any_ details."

Rachel scoffed, her pent up frustration at her current boyfriend and her former boyfriend coming out at her current and former-if-he-keeps-this-up best friend. "First I want details on _you_ and David Karofsky." She looked at him pointedly. "It's been suggested your recruitment of his talents might be less team-oriented than you'd have us all to believe."

"We're friends, if that's what you were suggesting."

"I'm suggesting that classification might be changing." The bell rang, but Rachel didn't give up her fight even though he'd managed to gather his stuff quickly. "Which would also mean your relationship status with Blaine was changing, too."

Kurt slowed his steps so she could catch up to him, the two walking together toward the choir room. "Fine. You were right." He looked over at her, rolling his eyes at her triumphant but expectant expression. "We shouldn't talk about private matters." She scowled and he couldn't help but laugh. "Let's talk about the performance the boys are planning for glee."

She knew he was distracting her on purpose, but he'd picked a topic she couldn't ignore. "A performance?"

"I heard Finn practicing last night. _So_ cute."

"Noah and I were planning on performing for the group today."

"Was it going to be PG-13?"

A small smile slipped onto Rachel's face even as she extended her one arm across her chest and playfully socked Kurt in the shoulder. "What is the purpose of this presentation? Who is involved?"

"Sam was at the house helping Finn, but other than that I'm not sure." Kurt took the steps up the risers carefully, claiming a seat in the back right while Rachel chose the one next to him. "If Sam's behind it, I would say his target is quite obvious."

"Obvious to everyone but Quinn," Rachel muttered, Kurt humming in agreement.

"Sectionals is right around the corner; things were bound to get ugly around here."

She nodded helplessly at the observation, wondering how the group always seemed to manage to come apart at the seams right before and during competition time. And, even more so, how they almost always managed to pull everything together and come out on top. Her thoughts, however, were derailed when Finn entered the room. Less than half of the club had arrived, and Mr. Schuester was notoriously late on Mondays. He always got caught up answering questions in his last class, a fact that some of the glee kids (read: Puck) used to their advantage.

"Excuse me," Rachel said simply, though Kurt's attention had moved to Blaine. She stood from her seat and approached Finn with fierce determination. His sweet smile slipped from his face the second his eyes landed on the fire ignited in her own, and despite her small stature Rachel was able to grab hold of his loose striped polo shirt and completely turn him around to drag him out of the choir room. The halls were still relatively busy with loitering teenagers, so Rachel pulled Finn all the way to the auditorium so she could confront him away from prying eyes.

"Look, Rach …"

"No. I get to speak first." Her tone was sharp, much like her gaze as she turned and faced him coldly. "You and Noah were in a _fight_?"

"It ended up being a fight but …"

"I care very little about how it ended, Finn. I want to know why it even began?" His silence only seemed to fuel the fire more. "I can only assume it is an extension from our own interaction Saturday evening, and I'm outraged that you think you have any right or just cause to confront Noah about any of it."

"I'm just looking out for you, Rachel."

"While I appreciate your intentions, I don't need you to look out for me, Finn. I'm an independent woman who is more than capable of making my own decisions." Her arms crossed over her chest and she gave him the benefit of the doubt and ignored the way his eyes momentarily slipped to her breasts. "And despite how expedited the results might seem, I promise you that I have not taken anything in the past week lightly."

"I just don't understand," he admitted quietly.

"That's precisely my point." Her hand came out to rest on top of his shoulder, much of her anger dissipating as she looked up at Finn's boyish expression. "You don't need to understand. If we truly are just friends now, you need to either accept this information and move forward or …"

"I want to be friends." Finn nodded as he spoke, his eyes finally lifting to meet her gaze. "I guess I'm just having trouble forgetting not to be your boyfriend."

He shrugged emptily and Rachel couldn't help but release a dreamy sigh. No matter how many ups and downs the two of them had and however many more they will in their future, Rachel would never forget just how much she'd loved this boy in front of her. "Perhaps you need to not be _anyone's_ boyfriend for awhile." She tried to keep her voice friendly and not put herself on the pedestal he always seemed to place her on. "I know you are interested in Quinn, but she's clearly working through her own confusion right now. Perhaps what would be best for you would be to work on your future. After all, girlfriends will come and go, but you're going to have to live with yourself for a long time."

He chuckled at her playful smile, nodding his head a little. "Yeah, I guess." He shrugged. "Pretty stupid to think we're going to be with someone from high school forever, huh?"

Rachel's breath caught in her throat, but she did her best to ignore his words when he turned and she had to follow him back toward the choir room. Finn veered off to the left to sit with Sam and Mike, Rachel moving back toward Kurt until she noticed Puck. His smirk was a little off when he'd noticed her coming in late with Finn, but he sat completely casual in the bottom row. The two had joked yesterday that he might be going to class now, but he wasn't going to give in and sit front row center with her. It seemed silly to put such an emphasis on his seating choice, but if he was willing to make an exception for her then why couldn't he understand that she might be willing to make exceptions for him?

"We need to talk."

He cocked an eyebrow at her abruptness, his practiced ambivalence hiding the panic that shot through him. "Now?"

"No." She shook her head. "But I would prefer sooner rather than later." She bit her lip, hearing Mr. Schuester present Sam and the other boys and knowing her time was running out. "Unfortunately you have football after glee and I have a voice lesson." Sam was now talking, looking right at Mercedes as he spoke about the group's music selection. "May I meet you later at Shelby's?"

He nodded to her whispered question, noting her hesitant smile with a bit more trepidation than he'd admit while the boys started in on their performance. The upbeat song immediately had the rest of the club moving in their seats, Brittany and Sugar swinging their long hair like a bunch of love struck pre-teens. Quinn, Mercedes, and Kurt were competing for who could swoon the hardest, all at the same boy, which wasn't good for Sam. It wasn't the best for Finn, either, though the tall teen seemed less honed in on his target than Sam and Mike despite his clear motivations to help with the performance. Santana, much like Puck, was stuck between rolling her eyes and biting her tongue at the thought that Quinn fit into the lyrics at all.

"If Q is modest, then I'm celibate."

Rachel smiled at Puck's muttered observation, but decided to use the club's distraction to her advantage. "There's nothing wrong with being self-assured. In fact, I envy her."

"Don't," he practically growled, keeping his gaze straight but leaning over more so his mouth was closer to her ear.

She blushed at his proximity, the urge to touch him coming up strong again but her inner monologue telling her to ignore it because the focus should be on the performance. Plus, after lunch, she wasn't quite sure how to act around him anymore. He'd obviously had strong feelings for her, and he'd never cared about his perception at school being altered by hanging out with her – even in sophomore year – but he'd been wary of her attempts to reciprocate that affection. And because she was new to it all, Rachel still wasn't sure why or how to handle it.

"Don't," he repeated when she bowed her head down, shrugging her shoulders as her hair slid in front of her face. "Forget 'em all." He placed his hand on her thigh and squeezed, standing up just as the boys were basking in the glow of the club's attention after their performance. "Just be you."

Rachel blinked at his words and the way he separated from her and the group after the boys had moved back to their seats. He approached Mr. Schuester by the piano and the older gentleman seemed intrigued before nodding enthusiastically. Puck grabbed his guitar case from the side of the room and then walked back to the stool Mr. Schuester had moved to the center for him. Puck strung a few chords to loosen his fingers, eventually looking up at the group. He cleared his throat nervously, his eyes sweeping casually over the room.

"I only learned a lil' bit since this song blows, but … Sam had a point." His eyes moved from the blonde boy to Rachel, his gaze intense. "The lyrics are spot on."

Rachel's mouth opened a little on a breathy inhale, her questioning gaze softening the second he started to play. Puck knew a lot of instruments, but his baby would always be the guitar. So it shouldn't be any surprise that he managed to strip the song the boys had just performed into a slowed down, acoustic version. He had raw showmanship that the other boys couldn't even come close to, and the raspy quality of his voice just seemed to make the words that much more poignant.

_You're insecure, don't know what for_

_You're turning heads when you walk through the door_

_Don't need makeup, to cover up_

_Being the way that you are is enough_

_Everyone else in the room can see it_

_Everyone else but you_

_Baby, you light up my world like nobody else_

_The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed_

_But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell_

_You don't know, you don't know you're beautiful_

_That's what makes you beautiful_

Rachel knew they had a lot to talk about still. She was still interested in the confrontation he'd had with Finn and his motivation for keeping that information from her. If they were going to make this work, they both needed to be open and honest about everything, whether it was something silly like schedules or more serious like their future. She needed to trust him when he'd said she didn't need to change, and he needed to trust her when she told him that he was the one causing the change. Because even though "as long as you're mine" was her mindset before, as she stood from her seat and moved to stand directly in front of him she understood how difficult it might be to maintain.

Puck opened his mouth to say something, feeling not just Rachel's scrutiny but the rest of the group's after they'd finished applauding his musical attempt. But, as soon as his tongue swept across his dry lips in preparation to speak, Rachel's mouth covered his. She cradled his jaw in her hands, releasing his lips with a hard smack almost just as quickly as she'd captured them. She placed another but more tender kiss on his lips, then pulled back completely even though her hands remained on his face.

"We still need to talk, but there's one thing I can't wait to say any longer." She released her grip as well as a soft smile, her eyes twinkling. "I love you, too."

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> The song referenced that the boys performed was "What Makes You Beautiful" by OneDirection. The version that inspired Puck's short solo, however, is the same song done by Boyce Avenue. If you don't know who that is or haven't heard their version, I definitely advise you to go to YouTube and look them up. They do amazing covers of all kinds of songs (currently crushing on their version of Bruno Mars' "Rain") and even have some great original music. Regardless, the point is the song referenced is not mine, so don't sue!


	23. Selective Hearing

**Author's Note:** This is super late and, truth be told, I hate it. But I think I finally have a plan for how to finish up this story, even if I still have to put that plan into action (sometime between all the other real life things that need to be done). Regardless, to those braving this terrible chapter and sticking with me, I cannot thank you enough! I'll do my best to make it worth your while!

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><p>The small child squealed in glee as Puck mock-chased her around the couch, eventually trying to hide under a blanket without him noticing. He played along, though, wondering out loud where she could have gone and ignoring the laughter coming from the moving cover piled in the middle of the living room. Shelby laughed to herself, too, sitting comfortably at the dining room table with a hot cup of tea cradled between her two hands. Raising Beth alone was harder than she'd thought it would be, and Puck was more than happy to give her a few hours of "peace" when he could.<p>

"I thought I asked you not to rile her up."

Puck grinned mischievously out of habit. "What?" Beth jumped out from under her cover and shouted, Puck pretending to be startled before he moved his attention back to Shelby. "She started it."

Shelby rolled her eyes, placing the half-empty mug onto the table before trying to coax her young daughter toward her bedroom. Beth protested quickly, grabbing onto Puck's leg and then squirming and wailing when Puck kissed her goodnight and handed her to Shelby. He felt bad when the screaming only got louder, but Shelby just shook her head in condescending amusement. It was a look he was familiar with from his own mother, to just name one. Luckily, Puck was able to get on Shelby's good graces again when someone knocked on the door and she asked him to entertain the guest while she put Beth down.

He knew who it was, and even if Beth had to sleep that didn't mean he was ready to settle down yet. He approached the door so he wouldn't have to speak too loudly for his voice to carry through it. "Sorry. We don't want any."

"Noah," Rachel chastised immediately. "Let me in."

"Fine. I'll take two Thin Mints," he joked, chuckling as he watched her stomp her foot through the peephole. She was so hot when she was pissed. He swung the door open, leering at her. "I'd buy a lot more if you were in that little outfit."

She smiled even as she scolded him. "That's disgusting, Noah. Your sister is a girl scout."

"Wow." His smirk immediately fell off his face, his whole body shuddering. "Way to ruin a fantasy, Berry."

Rachel rolled her eyes, taking the necessary step forward into the house before lifting to her toes to press her lips against his. It was gentle and over far too quick as she moved to walk through the house, settling for the middle of the living room. She didn't need to ask where Beth and Shelby were because the sound of the tiny girl crying while Shelby tried to sing a lullaby over her was as clear as day. And Rachel seemed to know Puck had something to do with the current arrangement given her quick scowl, but something else took precedent, her expression morphing back to neutral.

"I suppose we have time to talk now."

"Or make out."

Rachel blinked, then blurted out, "Are you embarrassed of me?" He hesitated long enough for her to follow up her own question. "I'm not questioning your feelings for me or even your attraction – though I haven't seen you be particularly picky in the area in the past – but in glee and when we are alone you seem much more eager and willing than, for instance, the way you acted this afternoon at lunch and the only thing I can deduce from that is …"

"What do you mean I haven't been particularly picky in _that_ area?" He asked, lost mid-ramble. "I got standards."

"Yes, yes, I know." She sighed. "Sugar is off the table and anyone who, and I'm quoting, smells of Crabs." She groaned when he smirked, but it was too funny hearing that phrase come out of Rachel Berry's mouth. "My point is you do not appear to have a type. You've been with blondes, brunettes, skinny girls, bigger girls, freshmen, wives …"

"So?" He asked, his voice carrying an edgier tone than it had before. He suddenly wasn't having as much fun as he was before, and it didn't sound like he would be having any fun in the near future, either.

"So I don't know what supposedly makes me different," she confessed, her voice small even if it held a bit of strength from the frustration she felt from constantly being interrupted. "Your song was absolutely breathtaking, Noah. It was heartfelt and arranged perfectly, and your voice along with the meaning behind the lyrics was certainly just cause for my reaction, which you didn't seem to have any abhorrence to when it was among our close friends."

He sighed. "I ain't embarrassed of ya." Puck reached out, leading her away from the maze of toys left in Beth's wake and pulling her closer to his spot leaning against the couch. Her hair fell forward to cover her face when she dipped her head down, and he couldn't help the way his one hand lifted up to push the strands back behind her ear. "I ain't Finn."

She looked up, surprise and confusion evident in her gaze. "I know that."

"Do ya?" He questioned, his voice rough. "'Cause ya keep playin' this shitty insecurity card like you're waiting for me to ditch ya for sayin' the wrong thing or too much or whatever." Then, he shrugged, his voice lowering. "When, legit, I'm just waitin' for you to do the same thing."

"Excuse me?"

"I know ya think you're weird or whatever 'cause ya talk a lot and wear crazy shit sometimes, but … maybe not in high school or this fucked town, you could have any guy you wanted." His fingers smoothed against her sides in a nervous tick, eliciting some goosebumps to reach the surface. "You're going to famous and you're already super hot and …" He didn't know how else to say it. "I'm not Finn."

She didn't argue with him, but instead seemed to contemplate his response for what felt like forever but was really only about a minute. "So, if I'm understanding correctly, your argument against my behavior at lunch was you believe I'm doing with you what I did with Finn, which is try to be the perfect girlfriend to match your personality." He nodded and she smiled. "Then, if two wrongs make a right, I should be allowed to be upset that you are assuming I want you to act like Finn, right?"

"I, uh …"

"I'm glad you aren't Finn." She moved her hands up his arms, stopping at his shoulders. Her thumbs tickled the skin of his neck until he looked up at her. "If I wanted Finn, I'd still be with him." She massaged away the tension that immediately overcame his body. "I want you." Her voice dipped, her lower half leaning more into him. "It has nothing to do with Finn or what I want or wish people to see at school. It is innate and powerful and has everything to do with _you_."

Puck was sick of talking. He wasn't used to opening up so easily, and he wasn't used to anyone doing the same thing in return, at least positively. He also wasn't used to having a hot-as-hell chick pressed up against him and _not_ trying to take it to the next level, and that's what he decided to do by pulling her upper body flush against him. Their lips met eagerly, Rachel greedily lapping at his lips.

They hadn't been dating long (were they dating?), but so far Puck liked his odds. In the past, relationships had not been the best example of steady physical activity. Quinn was like Fort Knox during the whole pregnancy, and Lauren wasn't having any of it. Rachel, on the other hand, wasn't just open to kissing and whatever, but seemed eager to explore the sexual aspects of the relationship. It wasn't necessarily as unexpected as others might think (he'd never considered her a prude), and deep down he wondered if he was stupid for not realizing she'd want to be the best in _that_ avenue of her life, too.

Missing accomplished.

"Fuck, B," he groaned when she pressed into him a little more insistently, their mouths breaking to suck in some much-needed oxygen. His hands at her sides slid to her lower back, under her shirt a little. "Has it really only been a day?"

"Feels longer," she whined, biting his lip a little before diving her tongue back inside his mouth.

Her hands were clutching the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders, and he was seconds away from pulling her down so they'd fall onto the couch until he heard the distinct sound of a sharp inhale of breath followed by a few missteps against the hardwood flooring of the hallway. He gripped Rachel's hips in reflex, but in true Berry fashion she was too lost in what she was doing to comprehend any subtle clues that they needed to stop. So, reluctantly, Puck had to literally push her off him, though kept her close enough that her frame could hide his obvious disappointment in the fact that they had to stop in the first place.

"How long was I in there?"

Rachel's eyes widened from their previously confused state, her head slowly turning to face Shelby. "I-I'm sorry."

"I don't think you are," Shelby joked, some color coming back to her face as she moved her gaze to Puck. "And I know you aren't."

The situation was beyond awkward, but he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, one of his shoulders lifting up in subtle agreement. "She asleep?"

"I finally calmed her down enough that she promised to go to sleep _after_ a story from you." Shelby jutted out a finger toward him. "Pick a short one."

He nodded, momentarily moving his eyes back to Rachel before she gave him a subtle nod that it was OK that he left. And, considering he knew the conversation that was about to happen, Puck was more than happy to oblige. He actually hadn't been on the receiving end of such discussions in the past – neither Quinn or Lauren ever introduced him to their parents – but he knew he wasn't well liked amongst fathers in Lima. And outside of the mothers he'd screwed (they hated him for different reasons probably), he was pretty sure they weren't his biggest fans either.

"So, you and Puck?" Shelby opened with, taking a seat on the couch while Rachel stood frozen in the spot next to the piece of furniture. "Since when?"

"Not long," Rachel croaked.

Shelby nodded. "I'm not surprised you two are together, Rachel. However, I'm surprised at the intensity of the relationship after such a short amount of time."

"I know," Rachel responded, her voice very understanding. "It honestly took me by surprise as well, but … do you recall that night I cooked dinner for you and Beth and Noah?"

Shelby nodded at the question. "The epiphany."

"Yes." Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "And, earlier, when you told me to put myself first?"

"And you told me you were a tactile person."

Rachel blushed heavily, realizing she might have just proven that point to Shelby – her mother – in her own living room. "When I finally stopped to really consider my feelings, everything pointed to Noah. And our love is strong enough to power through …"

"Excuse me?" Shelby coughed. "Your love?"

Rachel blinked, a coy smile slipping onto her face. "I love him."

"Rachel, honey …" Shelby stood from the couch, approaching the young girl with a tired expression. "Sometimes, in extreme situations and especially without the proper amount of time to consider everything, what we might consider love is really just adoration or even attraction."

"With all due respect, that's not what is happening," Rachel said curtly, her chin lifting a little. "And I'm sorry about what you saw earlier, but I think it is time for me to leave."

She spun on her heel just as Puck walked back into the living room, his eyes wide as he watched Rachel walk out of the house without another glance back. He'd picked the shortest story he could find and Beth had fell asleep before he'd even finished, but clearly it had been too long. He literally flinched when Shelby turned from her spot, staring at him so hard that he thought he might turn to stone. Legit? Was there any doubt this lady was Rachel's mom? Scary similar.

"So much for patience," she sneered.

Puck didn't appreciate the tone or the connotations that came with it. If he were being honest, he'd been waiting since sophomore year for Rachel to give him the time of day again and he wasn't going to feel bad that it all had happened so quickly. "I thought you wanted this?"

"You're good for her, Puck, but you're also both very young." Him rolling his eyes didn't make her any less upset. "You know her better than almost anyone, so I know you understand that this isn't something that can be taken lightly."

"And that's what I'd do, right?" He snapped. "'Cause I'm just Puck, the kid who …"

"You know I don't think that," she interrupted. "I care about _both_ of you, and that's exactly why I'm so worried about this." She sighed. "Too much is at stake right now, for both of you, to have your judgment clouded by another person."

Puck filed her concern away for later, but followed Rachel's move and split without a backward glance. It was late and he had to walk home, or so he thought until he walked out of Shelby's house and saw Rachel sitting in her car in the driveway. She nodded for him to get in with her, presumably to give him a ride home. And considering he had his Chem book, his math book, and about four notebooks straining inside his backpack, Puck was down for not walking. Plus, in spite of everything, he was curious what his chances might be for some hot, angry sex, in the car or not.

"What did she say to you?"

"Nothin'." She glared at him and he sighed. "Oddly enough, she thinks I'm Finn."

"What does that mean?" She asked while turning on the car, pulling out of the driveway and toward Puck's house.

"She thinks I'll distract you from goin' to New York." Then, because he _still_ wasn't comfortable with talking about his feelings, he tried to lighten the mood. "As she'd witnessed just how distracting I can be when it comes to you."

"This isn't just about sex, Noah," she bit back. "I love you."

"I know." He smiled like a girl and didn't even care. He didn't think he'd ever get sick of her saying that to him, mostly because he knew she meant it and having Rachel Berry on your side was pretty awesome. But, at the same time, he couldn't help but think about what Shelby had said. "But I get it. I mean, what if I don't get into Walden or NYU or wherever?"

"You'll get in. You are extremely talented and …"

"Would ya go without me?"

Rachel slowed in front of his house before pulling into the driveway, putting the car into park before she turned and faced him. "Of course."

Puck didn't believe her anymore than she believed herself, her hesitance enough to tell the real story. "Rachel …"

"You'll get in," she reiterated, her voice strong enough to end the conversation. "I have to get back home."

He tried to hide his disappointment. "Ya sure?"

She nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Curfew." She shrugged. "I know Daddy is just waiting by the door, expecting me to be late. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of being right."

"That tree by your window is pretty sturdy. I bet I could sneak in."

"I'm sure Dad thought of that." She sighed. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was a new security system installed now that they know you are my boyfriend."

Puck's gut twisted, his insides turning as he realized what Rachel _wasn't_ saying. Her fathers weren't happy they were dating (he'd decided they were). They were nice enough to him at the dinner and at temple, but being nice to someone and thinking they were good enough for your daughter were two different things. And, clearly, Mr. and Mr. Berry didn't agree that Puck was. Just like Shelby, even though she tried to talk around it.

No one was on their side.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, leaning over and pressing her lips against his. They lingered there for a long moment, but not long enough for him to drop his bad mood, however sudden. "We'll perform the duet!"

He could fake it, though. "Or make out."


	24. Wrong Again

**Author's Note:** I'm not even going to get into the apologies for how long this chapter has taken me (especially since it is so shamefully short). I'm just going to say sorry and then move right onto the good news.

1) I have mapped out where I want this story to go and sorta how to get there. It's a good thing.

2) I've decided that outside of not having the time (my schedule will be opening up soon; yayay!), I haven't exactly been inspired to write. Maybe it is the show being a little dry, maybe it is my brain. BUT, after feeling a strange jolt of energy after hearing a particular song and thinking of making it a quick Puckleberry that the best way to cure this writer's block would be to ask you guys to help.

SO, in addition to leaving feedback to this new chapter (please!), it would be awesome if you also left me a Puckleberry story idea for a oneshot or maybe more. Maybe a song that you think fits, a crazy idea that sounds like fun, something you thought of but don't want to do yourself. Lemme hear it!

As always, thanks for being so cool and patient and also thanks in advance for the inspiration!

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><p>Puck heard Sam's rushed footsteps even before the blonde kid had made it entirely out of the locker room, the lingering smell of chlorine giving his presence away quite easily nowadays. In fact, he'd been able to evade him for most of the day because of it, and with a little help from Rachel; Sam's giant mouth closed up as soon as the brunette entered the room, which luckily was during the only two class periods the two boys shared. Unfortunately, with a frantic shout, it was clear Puck's luck had run out. Whatever it was that Sam was so desperate to talk to Puck about, he'd get his chance on the short trip to the choir room.<p>

"Dude, _finally_." Sam slowed his steps once their strides were in sync. "You're a lot harder to talk to now that you actually go to class and stuff."

He smirked in spite of his bad mood. "Whatcha want, Evans?"

"Less want, more need." Sam sighed, hiking his backpack higher onto his shoulders. Puck wasn't sure how it was even possible; the kid already wore his backpack practically on his neck, saying he couldn't afford a bad back as a teenage jock. "The performance yesterday totally worked. Maybe not as much as yours, but I don't think anyone's relationship is moving at the speed of Puckleberry 2.0."

"Get to the point," Puck groaned.

"Mercedes is open to the two of us easing back into a relationship, emphasis on ease." Sam moved so he wasn't talking to Puck's back once the latter stopped at his locker to get rid of most of his books. "She said she'd be comfortable with us going out _if_ there were at least another couple. Like, a double date."

"Fuck that noise."

"Puck, come on!" Sam pleaded. "Mike and Tina can't do it and you and Rachel are really all that is left considering I'm not asking Santana and Brittany _or_ Finn and Quinn. Plus, Mercedes and Rachel are friends and …"

"Not happenin'," he reiterated, the clanging sound of the metal locker shutting echoing in the hallway as Puck walked away from the blonde toward the choir room. He could hear Sam desperately trying to convince him otherwise, but Puck wasn't in the mood to listen. In fact, he wasn't in the mood to do much of anything after last night. No matter what he tried – he'd even done _homework_ to try to distract himself – all Puck could think about was Shelby's words and what Rachel had said about her fathers.

It was like a buzzing in his ears, reminding him that his life never worked out the way he wanted it to. It never has. He wasn't the guy with the happy family and the nice house. He wasn't acing all his tests or getting employee of the month. And he _wasn't_ the guy who got the girl. Ever. No matter what, he was always going to be bad boy from the wrong side of the proverbial tracks. It didn't matter what he did, or who refused to believe it.

Which, he'd come to realize, was only Rachel.

"I'll pay!" Sam announced desperately as they walked into the choir room. "I'm not exactly sure _how_, but …. you love Breadstix and it will all be free."

Puck took his seat, glaring at his friend. He didn't want to admit it considering he'd put a lot of work into the whole situation working out, too, but Sam had been there for him when things were going to Hell with Rachel. He might owe him one. "When?"

"I was thinking Thursday," he breathed, clearly relieved by Puck's change of heart. "Mercy will think I'm not serious if I try to do tomorrow, and Friday is out because of the football game."

Puck nodded, almost forgetting about the game. It didn't make sense considering he'd had to run twenty extra laps yesterday for being late to practice, but Puck wasn't really paying attention to football anymore. Unlike his schoolwork, it was one thing he could do well without trying. Plus, he'd already sent his applications and stuff to all the colleges he was showing interest in. Once he got accepted (_if _he got accepted), he figured he could give up completely.

"I'll think about it."

"Think about what?" Rachel asked, chipper as ever as she took the spot next to Puck. He tried not to watch the sway of her skirt as she sat, but much like this morning and again at lunch, he found his eyes deceiving his brain. It wasn't the only part of his anatomy screwing him over, either. It would be a lot easier to stay pissed if he didn't like almost everything about her.

"Trouty Mouth needs a wing couple to seal the deal with Chocolate Thunder."

Rachel beamed at the blonde, ignoring the nicknames she'd told him more than once were inappropriate. "A double date?"

"Yes," Sam said, his smile a little too smug for Puck's taste. "I was just asking Puck if you guys wanted to come to dinner on Thursday, but he …"

"Was wonderin' who would drive," Puck finished, stopping Rachel's eyes from welling up anymore than they had already. Deep down he hoped Sam would sit close enough that he could punch him without Rachel noticing. Kid deserved to be hit for stupidity alone. He could have saved himself a lot of time by just bringing it up to Rachel in the first place. She was a chick; going on a double date was like second to an orgasm for most of them.

"This is so exciting." She swirled back to face Puck. "Our first real date." Rachel couldn't have smiled any bigger at that moment. "And I'd be happy to drive." She turned her attention back to Sam. "Daddy will be much more understanding with you and Mercedes tagging along."

One of Puck's eyebrows lifted. "Understanding?"

"You know Daddy." Rachel dismissed his confusion with a wave. "So overprotective."

He scoffed in response, ignoring the rest of the conversation between Rachel and Sam. Thursday was of little interest to him now that he wasn't even sure he'd make it through today. Mr. Berry never had an issue with Rachel giving him a ride _before_ they were dating. He'd probably let perfect Finn borrow the Beamer, but now that _Puck _was the boyfriend, new rules had to be in place. Rules that were meant to point out that he wasn't good enough for anyone, let alone their little girl.

"Is everything alright?" Rachel whispered in concern, her hand running gently over his covered knee.

She couldn't see that he was a fuck up. She was the only one who saw him as anything different from what he'd allowed others to assume about himself, and maybe that made her the only one who was wrong. Maybe that made her the only one he'd been able to fool. Because maybe he shouldn't be trusted. Maybe he wasn't good enough. After all, it wasn't like he didn't want to screw her brains out in her car (or anywhere, really).

Her parents just didn't know that she might be the one to suggest it – and he still wasn't entirely convinced that had nothing to do with him, either.

"Good afternoon, boys and girls," Mr. Schuester announced merrily as he strolled into the choir room, effectively ending any private conversation between Puck and Rachel. "I have good news."

"You're finally getting a haircut that won't make you look like a Cabbage Patch kid."

"N-no," he faltered at Santana's comment, his hand self-consciously moving over the back of his head. "Something related to sectionals next week."

"Actually, Mr. Schuester, if I might interrupt." Rachel raised her hand, which was stupid considering she'd already started talking. "Noah and I have prepared a duet that was originally intended to spark some interest in the group, but a performance I believe can be used now to anchor a win next week."

"No need."

Rachel nearly fell off the riser after she'd stood. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sure the song is amazing, Rachel, but time is running out – as it always seems to do in this group – and we need to focus on our set list for competition."

"Yes. _Precisely_." She moved toward the piano and the teacher, equally menacing if someone were to ask Puck. "I think you'll agree Noah and I have arranged a perfect ballad number for which the group can build around to complete an optimal set."

"Rachel," Mr. Schuester sighed, doing his best to keep his voice free of the frustration that was clearly creeping into his once good mood. "I'm not taking away any singing time from you. I promise."

"That's not the point I was making."

"I was driving to work today and a song came over the radio." Mr. Schuester addressed the group even though Rachel was frozen to her spot off to the side. "It was exactly like what had happened before regionals that first year, and I know it is a sign."

"A sign that you want us to lose?"

"We should have won nationals last year," he began to explain, ignoring Santana (and the truth considering they _had_ lost that competition he was referencing) entirely this time. "And we'll certainly return to original songs for the higher rounds of competition, but right now I want us to focus on one of our biggest strengths."

"The body roll?" Sam asked, mostly joking.

"Chemistry." Mr. Schuester's eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning. "Despite your differences, I've seen many of you work together with outstanding results. Santana and Mercedes, Mike and Tina …" Then he turned to put one hand on Rachel's shoulder while the other pointed to the back row. "Rachel and Finn." Mr. Schuester urged Finn up front. "Your performance at nationals last year was electric. Together or not, you two have a stage presence that _requires_ attention, which is exactly why _this_ song is perfect."

Mr. Schuester walked backward away from the pair, moving to the sound system while Rachel's eyes turned to Puck. He was still sitting casually in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, but the lines of his face were tightening by the second. He flicked a glance at Finn, who to his benefit looked pretty uncomfortable, before moving back to Mr. Schuester as the opening bars of one of the gayest songs ever started to play. He barely managed a snort of derision before others chimed in.

"Patty Symth?" Blaine asked hauntingly.

"It's a classic."

"A classic example of terrible music," Santana sneered.

"Guys …"

"Mr. Schuester, while I can appreciate the harmonization of the chosen song and the acknowledgement that Finn and I perform well together, I feel …"

"This is not open for discussion, Rachel."

"Yes, but if you would just …"

"Fuck, B," Puck groaned in frustration. "Just sing the stupid song."

He ignored the hurt expression he'd put on her face as well as the mock stern one from Mr. Schuester at his language. He'd been ignoring his mother's same look for years, so that one was a lot easier to stomach than Rachel's. He was shit with crying chicks, but she took it to an extreme with those big, brown eyes. Puck was pretty good at reading people, and especially her. He could tell the difference between her eyes shining in pride or excitement and the glassy expression that had crept onto her face.

She was too strong to break, though.

"Very well." The lines of her face tightened, her focus moving off Puck to Mr. Schuester. "I assume you have prepared choreography for the number, yes?" She waited for the teacher to nod. "What other songs have you chosen to complement the ballad?"

Puck listened to Mr. Schuester lay out the set list for next week's performance, but just barely. It didn't sound too terrible, and the songs would go well together and show that the group didn't just rely on Rachel. But, as usual, he would be the guy in the background, layering vocals behind the lead singer. To use a quote Quinn had said more than once, he would be one of the people swaying in the background. Nothing more than a prop.

And it wasn't even like he wanted to be in the spotlight. That was Rachel's thing, not his. But he at least wanted the chance. He was kickass on guitar and pretty decent on piano and drums, too. He had the same range as Finn and could dance just as well as Sam or Blaine, definitely Artie. He had the look that garnered attention from the audience and judges. He'd been with the group just as long if not longer than almost everyone else. He'd gone to bat for the club more than once, even been the one to recruit members when needed. He'd _earned_ a chance to sing a solo or duet during competition.

Mr. Schuester clearly didn't agree.

Puck glowered deeper, crossing his legs the other way while Rachel and Finn hit the second verse of their poetic duet, where the words seemed poignant because of their history and less because the song was relevant at all anymore. Finn _always_ got what he wanted. Even when things weren't going his way, somehow something better came along, and Puck was sick of it. He was sick of getting the tall teen's sloppy seconds, sick of playing the sidekick in the made-for-TV movie about Finn Hudson.

"I gotta take a leak." Puck stood, walking almost all the way to the door before being stopped, equally by Mr. Schuester and Rachel. "Yeah. I'll be right back."

He didn't dare look at her as he left, knowing she'd see the lie if she didn't already hear it. Despite all his attempts to be guarded and seem mysterious to everyone else, Rachel was able to see right through him; it was scary in a lot of ways because she'd been the one person he needed to avoid getting close to the most, and he wasn't even limiting that to earlier in high school. He didn't want to say it because it was just another example of him not being good enough, but Shelby had a point last night. Their relationship had sprung up and grew into something serious so quickly that it probably only could end one way.

Because he'd be damned if he completely proved them all right and held her back from her dreams.

She was bound for New York and Broadway and anything else she wanted and put her mind to; it had nothing to do with him and he didn't want her to try to make it out to be like it was. She was going to succeed with or without him, and unfortunately nobody but her believed the same about him. And, before, he'd thought that didn't matter. He'd thought that her believing in him would be enough, but he was wrong.

Again.


	25. Balancing Act

Author's Note: Look who's back and in a relatively quick manner. *points to self* Me! And would you believe I am almost done with the NEXT chapter, too? Just hearing your guys' story ideas seemed to spark me into writing the rest of this story. (Knock on wood for all of this, though, since I am not done yet!). Seriously, thank you all for the ideas as well as the awesome support! You guys are my faves!

As for this chapter, nothing much to say other than an apology to anchyweasley. Without meaning to (the writing took another turn), I lied. My bad. I'll fix it. Promise.

Enjoy!

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><p>Rachel walked into the women's restroom in haste, blowing out a heavy breath as her back rested against the other side of the solid wood door. She willed the tears threatening to fall to stay back behind her eyes, a gasp of surprise echoing in the small area when the door pushed open and jolted her forward. Her hand on her heart and the other quickly swiping below the rims of her eyes, Rachel turned and faced her intruder with the type of indignation that only she could pull off; after all, it wasn't exactly rude of anyone to storm into the public bathroom just because she was currently using it as somewhat of a sanctuary.<p>

"Diva?" Mercedes asked quietly, her lip out a little as she evaluated her friend. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Rachel immediately lied, the tears welling up even more as she realized her acting skills were of little to no use to her at the moment. What would her future hold if she couldn't even fake being alright when a semi-close friend asked her a simple question? How was she supposed to go on stage and truthfully portray her character's emotions to audience members if she could be so easily swayed by her own inner turmoil? "I'm absolutely fine. One of my eyelashes fell into my eye, but I was able to remove it and just now need a moment to touch up my makeup."

Mercedes frowned deeper. "Honey, it's okay if …"

"No, it's not _okay_." Rachel shook her head. Clearly she hadn't been convincing enough. "This is meant to be your night and the focus should be on you and Sam having a pleasant evening together, rekindling the love that was clearly present during the summer months and most certainly still beating in his heart."

Mercedes blinked at her friend, her stunned silence giving Rachel time to swiftly move into one of the stalls in reprieve. Inside she focused on the calming breathing methods she'd learned at a young age to prepare her for performances. Her eyes closed in reflex as she breathed in through her nose and then slowly out through her mouth, her tongue moving across her dry lips after a few beats. Rachel could feel her heartbeat returning to its normal rhythm, the blood in her veins not quite as frozen as it had been out at their table.

"This is a double date, Rachel. We should both be having fun."

"I'm having a _great _time!"

Mercedes scoffed. "If that's true, you're crazier than I ever thought."

Rachel couldn't help the short bubble of laughter that escaped from her throat, her knees giving out as she unceremoniously sat on the toilet below her. Her hands moved to her face, covering her eyes in shame while her fingers massaged her forehead. Slowly she moved her hands through her hair and then back down to her knees, the echo of her palms smacking the bare skin ringing in the tiny stall. She shook her head almost in disbelief, her eyes focusing on her heels but her voice as far away as it could be.

"I don't know what's going on," she admitted honestly. "For days now I've been trying to figure it out, but I'm unable to come up with any reason let alone solution that would help. And I've tried to broach the subject with Noah, but … well you saw how well that has turned out."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it the way he said it."

Rachel sighed, thinking back to the conversation that had brought her into the bathroom to begin with. Things had been strained between her and Noah all night – for the past few days, actually – and his mood only soured when Sam brought up this afternoon's glee rehearsal. The group had been split up so some could work on choreography while others worked on singing, and Rachel and Finn had been singled out to practice the duet. They hadn't sung a single verse since Tuesday when Mr. Schuester had brought it up, so today they'd performed the song at least five times, tweaking things here and there after each instance. Noah hadn't said anything during rehearsal, but Rachel had noticed the tension immediately. It was almost palpable by the time she'd drove to his house to pick him up for the date, and when Sam had talked about the set list, Puck had made his displeasure quite obvious.

It wasn't that Rachel was too naïve to understand Noah's objection to her and Finn doing a duet together, let alone a love ballad. No matter how much she tried to assure him that she'd much rather they sing their duet, he would just brush her off and pretend like he didn't care. She knew he did, though, which was why when Sam mentioned glee rehearsal Rachel had told him and Mercedes all about the duet Noah and her had perfected before Mr. Schuester had ruined the plan. Then, when Noah did nothing but chew on a piece of bread from the center basket, she explained that her and Noah had much more chemistry than her and Finn and that he was entitled to perform during competition because of all his efforts.

And, despite possibly laying it on a little thick in order to get him to open up, Rachel didn't feel his reaction was justified. She knew Noah often spoke before he thought, but when he'd told her that he could care less about glee club and reminded the entire table that he'd only joined to get closer to Quinn … well, she couldn't hide her own feelings anymore. In a strained voice that was far smaller than it had ever been, she'd excused herself and now here she was. Crying in the girl's bathroom. How cliché.

"He's not into Quinn anymore."

"I know that." Rachel sniffled, forcing herself to not relive the consequences of the ordeal all over again. "And I know he loves me. But he's fighting against something and refuses to let me help."

Mercedes was quiet for a long moment, her voice almost scaring Rachel when she finally spoke. "I know it's none of my business, but … how exactly did Puckleberry 2.0 happen?" Her voice took an amusing lilt. "I'm not looking for _those_ details, but … you and Finn like, just ended and now you and Puck are like, in love and everything."

Rachel felt dizzy as she thought back on just the few short weeks everything seemed to change in her life. She completely understood Mercedes confusion and wasn't even sure she had an answer that would make any sense. Sometimes even she didn't believe that it was all real. But it was, and she knew it was no matter how hard Puck was trying to deny it at that very moment.

"It's hard to explain," Rachel admitted as she stepped out of the stall, looking at the mirror and frowning at the mascara running down her cheeks. She didn't normally wear much makeup, but everything she had on this evening was currently smeared or smudged. "I've always felt a connection with Noah, and up until a couple of weeks ago I allowed myself to believe that it was simply attraction. It was the same part of me that believed Finn and I would last just because we'd been through too much beforehand. But, while I adore Finn and will always love him as a friend, we are on two different paths. And yet, Noah and I, even if we do end up taking different journeys into the beginnings of our adult lives, we'll still always be connected." She turned and looked at Mercedes. "You know?"

Mercedes laughed a little, shaking her head doubtfully. "You _are_ crazier than I thought."

"You just don't know him." The words came out of her mouth simply and quietly, but for some reason echoed in her ears over and over until a light bulb went off above her head. Mercedes didn't know him, not like Rachel did. And she _knew_ he wasn't acting like himself. He was acting like Puck, the persona he used to keep people away. It was the side of him she'd told Shelby about, the one that infuriated her to no end - even if it did have some merits. "He lost his balance."

"What?"

Rachel didn't bother answering her friend's question, ignoring her higher-than-usual voice and the way she followed on Rachel's heels as the petite brunette wove through the restaurant. Sam and Puck were sitting in silence, not comfortably if Sam's body language was any indication. Rachel paid little mind to easing the two into delightful conversation, though. Instead, she grabbed her purse from the spot it was sitting next to Noah, pulled out the twenty her fathers had given her for gas, and set it on the table with a hard slap.

"Sam, Mercedes, I apologize for the abrupt end to the evening, but we must go. Here is money for a cab."

"Berry …"

"Let's go, Puck."

He furrowed his brows - whether at the usage of his nickname or her behavior, she wasn't sure – but followed her. He really had no other choice; she didn't wait for his argument nor did he have any other way home outside of walking. Plus Sam and Mercedes were too stunned to offer him the cab they would apparently be taking home. Still, it was obvious she had his attention because he didn't dare say a word the entire walk to the car or for a good few minutes after she started driving – away from both their houses.

"Ya takin' me somewhere secluded to kill me or do stuff?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, not wanting to encourage him at all. She was on a mission, and she didn't want to put their lives at risk by starting too early. She had to get through to him, and she wasn't going to be able to if she let on even a little bit that she could be distracted by his humor or his likely next weapon, charm. Regardless of which persona he was exuding, charming was one trait that wasn't exclusive to one.

"Look, I shouldn'ta said …"

"I'm not interested in your apologies, Puck." She kept her eyes on the road, but she could feel his gaze narrow on her as she turned down one of the dirt roads that led to the vacant spot of land where teenagers typically parked before heading to the lake. It was almost December, though, so they certainly wouldn't be going for a swim tonight. And neither would anyone else, which was why Rachel knew the parking area would be completely empty even before she pulled up. It was dark and almost scary when she turned the key in the ignition and the low hum of her car cut away to pure silence.

"Whatcha doin'?" He asked, squinting in confusion as she moved from the front seat of her sedan to the back. Her hands glided over the buttons of the cardigan she was wearing, his eyes closing and a groan escaping before he turned back toward the front of the car and growled, "The fuck?"

"This is what you want. Isn't it, Puck?"

"Why do ya keep callin' me that?" He snapped, turning back to face her, his eyes refusing to fall to her chest even though it was proudly on display under the tight camisole tank top she'd been wearing underneath the sweater. Unfortunately, by refusing to trail his gaze down her body he missed her remove her panties until she moved them into his view and then dropped them to the ground. "Would you fuckin' stop takin' your clothes off?"

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked, amusement in her tone even if her facial expression wasn't showing it. "That doesn't sound anything like Puck. In fact, why are you way up there?"

Puck's heavy breathing echoed in the small car, but she didn't care how upset he got. She was trying to prove a point, through the only tactic that made any sense to her at the moment. And, realistically, it didn't make much sense except for the fact that she knew both sides of his personality so well. And she knew that if he was wearing his Puck mask, then she had to work harder to pull Noah out. She needed him to be honest with her, to explain why he was acting the way he'd been for the past few days, and if she had to force him off the edge of one cliff just so he'd fall onto the other, then so be it.

"I thought you wanted to _do stuff_."

"Take me home, Rachel," Puck grumbled, his face forward again.

She frowned now that he wasn't looking, afraid her plan wasn't working. As unlikely as it was, her attempt to get him to think with less of his brain (and therefore slip up and actually talk to her) wasn't working. And while there was a big difference between frustrating him and upsetting him, time was running out and now she had no other choice.

"When Finn and I would come up here …"

Puck ripped the seatbelt from its fastener and stormed out of the car, slamming the door shut on his way out. Rachel squeaked in surprise but didn't dare let him get too far away, scrambling out of the backseat and calling out to him. He turned at the sound of her desperate voice, her body shivering from the cold of the air and his stare. She wrapped her arms around herself to fend off the chill of the night that pierced through her limitedly clothed body, willing her voice to stay strong as she spoke to him.

"You said you trusted me." She saw a flash of hurt cross his face even in the distance. "You said you could tell me things because I was easy to talk to." For a moment, she was lost in the fact that the conversation she was referencing occurred less than a week ago. "So, _please_, tell me what is going on."

Puck's fists clenched at his sides, his head shaking a little. "Nuthin'."

"Noah Puckerman!" Rachel shouted, beyond outraged. "This simple-minded game might work with your previous conquests, but give me some credit. I know you better than most and I know exactly what you're trying to do." She stomped closer to him, easier said than done on an uneven dirt landing in heels that brought her eye level with him. "And it's not going to work." She poked him in the chest. "If you want to end this, then you're going to have to be the one to do it."

They stared at each other for a long moment, their eyes locked on the other though she could see his mind was elsewhere. While she was focused solely on him, willing him to talk to her, his mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts, each scorching through his deep hazel eyes. Rachel could see the love he had for her in the orbs and saw him stuff his hands in his pockets just to avoid from reaching out to defend her against the cold, and they were both like two knives twisting in her heart. They were so close, both physically and emotionally, and yet he was fighting against it all.

"I love you, Noah."

The air was ripped from her lungs when Puck finally moved, covering her lips with his own. Rachel didn't dare break away, instead inhaling deeply through her nose and opening her mouth to slide her tongue against his. Her hands were secured to his shoulders and she lost herself in the passion of his embrace. She could feel his love spreading through her veins as it poured out of his kiss, and she felt weak when his hands glided over her arms in a gentle caress. Or, at least that's what she'd thought it had been until he removed her hands from his shoulders, ending the kiss as he slid off his jacket and threw it over her before stepping back.

"It's over."

Rachel watched breathlessly as he walked out of sight, taking the known trail toward the lake to disappear into the night. It almost didn't seem real considering his coat provided a fake sense of security; his smell surrounded her and its heaviness was almost like his body wrapped around her. The heaviness of her heart weighed her down the most, though, enough that she literally fell back into the driver seat of the car, crumbling against the wheel as her body wracked with tears. She had to be home in less than thirty minutes and she knew her fathers wouldn't leave her alone if she returned with tear-stained cheeks, but the pain crying released somehow felt better than the lingering feel of Noah's lips on hers.

Barely.


	26. Hard to Believe

**Author's Note:** OK, so this actually is the shortest chapter known to man. And I really tried to go in an add little things here and there, but it just didn't get any longer. However, it is exactly what a lot of you asked for: what the heck is Puck thinking? Well, this chapter gives a pretty good (albeit brief) glimpse into his troubled psyche without getting too crazy because ... well ... it ain't over just yet! Haha.

I've been trying to figure out how long to make this story for, like, ever. And for those curious, it looks like it is going to end in just a few more chapters, 29 + an epilogue. And even though this one is short, look how fast I updated it! Plus, I will try to make the last ones a little meatier and such since there's a lot to polish and fix in such a short amount of time. :D

Long story short, thank you all for the feedback and encouragement. I looked at the total review count yesterday and swore there was a miscount. Like, legit. You guys rock my socks. So thank you again and enjoy (and then tell me what you thought).

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><p>Puck sat on the hard wooden bench in the McKinley High locker room, slumped against the cool metals of the lockers behind him while the quiet echoed around him. The rest of the team had moved to the corridor outside, prepared to take the field for the last home game of the season. He could hear the soft hustle and bustle of the team psyching itself up for what was going to be a pretty tough game, and in the distance was the sound of the crowd doing the same thing. It was all a fog, though, as he sat slouched on the bench and wished tonight wasn't so important and he could just skip it.<p>

"Dude." Finn appeared like a ghost, which meant Puck was even further out of it than he thought; Finn wasn't exactly a ninja to begin with and a six-foot-three teen in a shiny white football uniform didn't scream stealthy. "It's game time."

Puck nodded, slowly standing and shuffling away from the lockers and toward the door to head outside. Finn, however, stood in his way, causing Puck finally to lift his head from its sagged position. He moved his helmet from one hand to the other, tucking it under his arm as he evaluated his friend with a cocked eyebrow.

"You don't have to play."

"The scout's here for me," he mentioned, a little animosity in his tone to match the acid he heard in Finn's. "As if you give a shit."

The taller teen didn't respond nor did he move out of the way, and Puck couldn't help but feel his frustration boil over. He was so sick of Finn throwing a temper tantrum whenever things weren't going his way. And, knowing how things worked out, Puck wouldn't be surprised if things _did_ end up going Finn's way. His good fortune paired with Puck's terrible luck was almost the perfect recipe for the recruiter to end up being more interested in Finn by the end of the night than him; everyone always was.

"Why are we even friends anymore?" Puck asked roughly. "Like, really?"

"I don't know," Finn answered honestly after just a moment of hesitation. "But we are."

"Are we?" Puck questioned further, his voice urgent but still somehow subdued. "Are we really friends or just two guys who still talk and shit because we're too fuckin' stupid to know any better?"

Neither said a word, both likely thinking back over the years of their friendship. They'd been friends since the first day of kindergarten, mostly because they were sat next to one another. At first it was just the typical boy stuff, playing cops and robbers and daring each other to do stupid things on the playground. Their bond grew deeper, though, when Puck's dad left and they both were fatherless. Finn kept Puck on track, whereas Puck helped Finn get in a little much-needed trouble. Over the years, they'd managed to balance each other out in a really crazy way.

Then, puberty hit and everything went to hell. They were thrown into a world of sports and girls and _everything_ became a competition. And even though Puck had been the one to put Finn on the map, the latter wasn't as giving as his friend started to get in more and more trouble. By the time high school started and Finn's golden boy status was firmly in tact, Puck began to resent Finn and now he didn't know why they were still bothering.

"I don't know," Finn repeated, sighing heavily. "I've known you for like, thirteen years." He shrugged sadly. "And, yet, I don't think I know you at all." Puck chuckled humorlessly, understanding that sentiment all too well. Finn wasn't the first person to say that to him, and at the rate he was going, Puck was pretty sure Finn wouldn't be the last. "I definitely didn't expect this."

Puck looked at him questionably, nodding his head in the same manner Finn had. "This?"

"You're like … pouting." Finn shuffled his feet nervously, avoiding eye contact with Puck. "I didn't think you really loved her."

Puck's entire body stiffened, his heart betraying him for about the millionth time that day by constricting in a kind of excruciating pain that he'd never experienced before. He was well versed in hiding his pain behind distant ambivalence, but this … heartache, for a lack of a better word … was too strong, too powerful. It wasn't just an emotional reaction, but something that took over his entire being, keeping him too short of breath and dizzy to react to the unwelcome feelings in his normal, destructive manner.

The only thing he wanted to punch now was himself.

"So, what happened?"

"Dude," Puck scoffed, fighting down his uneasiness. "We may or may not be friends, but we totally ain't chicks."

Finn shrugged his shoulders. "It's just … she wasn't here today."

Puck nodded slowly, as if Finn was telling him something he didn't already know. Rachel didn't exactly have perfect attendance given her dad's hectic schedule that sometimes included bringing her along as well as her participation in a number of extra-curricular activities, but her absence was always easily recognizable. No more so than today, though, when Puck felt the emptiness of her seat next to him in first period as much as he'd felt it inside him since last night. He couldn't help but wonder if anything would ever fill the void.

"Nothing happened." He shrugged. "You were just wrong," he admitted quietly, working down the feeling of bile rising in his throat. He wasn't sure if he felt sick because of the emptiness or because he was talking about his feelings, but either way he calculated the distance in his head between himself and the nearest trash can in case he had to hurl. "She doesn't need me." He shook his head a little in disbelief. "I'm the _last _thing she needs."

"So you just dumped her?"

Puck shrugged again, not letting himself admit that she'd given him no other choice. She'd known exactly what he was doing and she was too stubborn to let it happen. It would have been super hot if it hadn't been so damn annoying. And all it would have done was delay the inevitable, because the truth was they couldn't last. There were too many obstacles and they were too young and too different to work through them all. By getting out now, they'd save each other a lot of time and emotional turmoil; in five years, she'd probably struggle just to remember his name.

"Boys!" Coach Bieste shouted from the doorway, her eyes honing in on the two seniors. "Maybe you forgot, but we got a game to win tonight!"

"Sorry, Coach." Finn winced at the almost grunt of disapproval before the door slammed shut. "Guess we should go."

Puck nodded, not feeling any better about _anything_ since he and Finn talked. In fact, he felt even worse because now he was embarrassed that he'd allowed himself to be so vulnerable in front of Finn. Even back when they were really good friends and Puck was pissed about his dad leaving his family, he'd never been such a girl about it. He'd acted out more than anything, which was how he got his bad-boy reputation to begin with; before then he was just your average kid. Now he had a persona to protect, and it was becoming harder and harder.

"Try not to suck tonight."

Finn grinned in spite of the harsh words, noting Puck's mostly teasing tone. "Don't drop the ball." Then, in a move that even Puck could see Finn was surprised he'd been able to pull off, the tall teen winked and slyly added, "On the field. You pretty much already did elsewhere."

It was an offhanded comment, but one that Puck considered the entire game. And it had been a tough game, but the Titans had come out on top thanks to three passing touchdowns, all caught by Puck and thrown by Finn. The entire home crowd stormed the field afterward in celebration, but Puck managed to slip away without anyone noticing. He went back to the locker room and showered and changed back into his regular clothes and almost made it out without anyone stopping him.

Well, not just anyone.

"Good game, son."

Puck nodded nervously, noting the bound leather book in the man's hand. "Thanks."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, Sir." He swallowed thickly. "You're the recruiter for Walden."

"And do you know who you are?" The older gentleman smiled when Puck snorted out a laugh, shaking his head a little bit before shrugging. "College is the perfect place to figure that out. And I think you'd really like Walden."

He was stunned, coughing out, "Are you serious?"

"I didn't fly to Ohio at the end of November to watch a high school football game in Lima just for fun." Puck laughed at the guy's sense of humor, extending his hand out to grab the business card the man had retrieved from inside the notebook. "We'll be in touch, Mr. Puckerman."

Puck nodded dumbly, frozen to his spot for a good five minutes as he just stared down at the card in his hands. It wasn't any bigger than a few inches, and yet it held so much power in the small space that he felt weak. It was overwhelming how important the thin piece of paper was to his future, but nothing compared to how he felt knowing the first and only person he cared enough about to tell likely would rip up the small card and throw it in his face now.

She hadn't been in the stands as was originally planned; he'd looked after every touchdown. He wasn't really catching the ball for her or anything, but he knew what it felt like to look up and see her beaming down at him, clapping wildly and looking so proud at something hours before she'd called barbaric and unnecessary. Without her in the stands, it almost felt like the touchdown wasn't worth as many points as it was before.

"Good game, lover," Santana drawled as she meandered closer, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her Cheerios coat.

It took at least a full thirty seconds for Puck to mumble, "Thanks."

"Fuck, you've only gotten worse." She evaluated him as if she were a nurse and he a sick patient. She joked about going into the family business, but Puck knew she actually was genuinely interested in medicine. She didn't want to be a dentist or even a plastic surgeon, but rather pediatrics. "For reals, I thought it was a 24-hour thing."

"It ain't the flu, Satan."

"No shit, Sherlock." Santana rolled her eyes, moving to cross her arms over her chest, one shoulder lifting emptily. "Trouty filled in the blanks."

Puck nodded absently, knowing better than to point out that Sam didn't actually know what happened. The double date had been a disaster and his observations were definitely enough of a reason to assume Puck and Rachel broke up. But Puck didn't really screw anything up until the two of them were alone; Rachel had given him an out, given him a way to get back on track, and he just hadn't taken it. And he didn't want to explain that to Santana. As crazy as it was, she was just another person who'd supported him and Rachel hooking up, and now he felt like he'd let her down, too.

"You need a ride or something?"

His brows furrowed together. "Ya offerin'?"

"In my car, asshole," she snarled.

Puck shook his head and she just huffed out a breath before turning back around the way she came. She'd walked a good fifty feet away from him before he called out, begrudgingly returning to the spot she'd been before as he looked at her carefully. He felt stupid, but he knew despite the name-calling and the constant fighting, they were actually friends. In fact, she might be his only real friend – anymore.

"I kinda do need a favor," he began sheepishly, waiting for her to nod so he'd know she was listening and not waiting for him to expose his jugular enough so she could cut him. "I know you're like, enemies and shit, but could ya … I dunno … make sure she's cool?"

"Me?" She asked with wide, doubtful eyes. "Check up on Rachel Berry?"

His head sagged, focusing on the ground. It wasn't the worst idea he'd had in the past day; in fact, there was one that definitely sucked harder. "Yea."

Santana groaned loudly, releasing the last bit of air on a sigh. "You're lucky I love you, dickface." Puck's head snapped back up, Santana rolling her eyes. "Don't seem so surprised." Then, as she walked away back toward the field and presumably where Brittany and was waiting, she tossed over her shoulder, "Not everyone thinks you're worthless."

Once again, Puck knew it was something uttered in passing, but just like what Finn had said before the game, Puck couldn't help but think about Santana's words his entire walk home - there was, of course, a huge party at Azimo's, but Puck wanted to attend as much as he wanted to eat shit for the rest of his life (literally, that is. He sorta already was metaphorically speaking). Before, he thought everything would be fine if Rachel believed in him, and then he'd decided that wasn't the case, that it wasn't enough. But he'd been wrong. About all of it.

Rachel might have used big words like perseverance and tenacity, but Ma said he was scrappy. Against all odds, he'd claw his way to something better out of sheer will alone. And clearly Santana believed him, and so did the college recruiter. Maybe Puck would never convince everyone, but that didn't matter. That's where he'd be wrong. It didn't matter if Mr. Schuester or Rachel's dads or even Rachel believed in him.

_He_ needed to believe.


	27. Not a Game

**Author's Note:** I made a goal to finish this chapter by Friday and ... LOOK! It's Friday! It's not as long as I might have hoped (read: you might have hoped), but it seems to be a mix of exactly what you all wanted to see after the last update. Plus, it was actually a lot of fun to write, which is sort of weird considering the general tone. AND I'm already working on the NEXT chapter! So here's hoping I can get back on track in terms of faster updates!

As always, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy this chapter and continue the pattern of leaving AWESOME feedback!

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><p>Rachel walked out of The Lima Bean restroom, her face freshly splashed with some cold water and a fake smile perched on her otherwise flawless face. Kurt and Blaine were seated in a booth in the corner of the popular coffee shop, leaning in close and speaking in one another's ears despite the atmosphere around them not being particularly loud. If she were bitter enough to do so, she'd bring it up, but Rachel was happy for them; she was happy to see that love could survive when, just a short amount of time ago, it had seemed bleak.<p>

It gave her hope for her own situation.

"We ordered you a muffin."

"It's vegan-friendly," Kurt added.

Rachel huffed, sliding into the seat across from them. "I believe I mentioned I wasn't hungry."

"You also sighed into your green tea like you hadn't eaten or drank anything in days, which I wouldn't bet is far from the truth."

"Thank you," she mumbled softly, bending her head down and begrudgingly picking at the healthy pastry.

Kurt wasn't entirely right; she had eaten some toast yesterday morning and her fathers had forced some soup and crackers down her throat last night. But outside of a lot of water, Rachel hadn't consumed much more than that in the past few days. It wasn't like she was doing it on purpose, though. Her focus just happened to be on her broken heart and not the possibly hungry organ a few inches south.

"I suppose I should just be happy I was able to pry you out of the dark confines of your room." He scrunched up his nose. "And out of those hideous pajamas you were wearing before I pushed you into your shower."

Rachel rolled her eyes, using the reflex to consciously focus on her best friend and other close friend instead of the pain that scorched through her at even the casual mention of just how distraught she'd been this weekend. The pajamas Kurt was so fondly mocking – she should have known he would have moved on to her wardrobe eventually; he'd spent the entire time she was getting ready likening her to a vampire since she'd kept her room so dark all weekend and hadn't been outside since driving back home on Thursday – happened to be the same pair she'd worn last weekend after the musical. After _everything_.

"And how much did it take to pry _you two_ out of your room this morning?" She asked, bordering humor despite her sullen mood. "Or possibly the shower."

Kurt made a sound like a cat on the prowl moments before Blaine clamped one of his hands over the former's mouth. "We're better, but not there just yet."

"Yes," Kurt agreed after tickling his way out of Blaine's grip, grabbing his tall cup of specialty coffee and swirling it in the air a bit before taking a ginger sip. "So much was happening so quickly that we were both getting lost in all the chaos." Kurt leaned his head against Blaine's, sighing dreamily. "Now we're back on the same page."

Rachel smiled in spite of herself, pleased that her friends were happy even if she currently felt like a million different shattered pieces put together in the wrong way. She wasn't particularly fond of David Karofsky despite Kurt's attempts to convince her that he'd changed. She considered herself a very forgiving person (almost to a fault), but almost two full years of slushie facials was a bit much to just turn the other cheek. She'd previously explained this, too, stating that even if Kurt had somehow pushed aside their differences, Rachel could not do the same without an apology at least – that was the (one of many) difference between David and Puck; the latter had shown remorse for his behavior and apologized.

"Is it going to be strange … with him starting glee after sectionals?" She asked quickly, distracting herself from the thought process that she'd almost let form.

"We're still friends," Kurt reasoned, his one hand moving under the table and likely in the hand Blaine had rested on Kurt's leg earlier. She wondered if it had been loving or reassuring, or both. "And it might be awkward at first, what with the whole crush he has on me, but … he's just fixated on me because I've helped him so much with his outing."

"Don't sell yourself short, babe."

Rachel gasped quietly at Blaine's term of endearment, shoving a piece of muffin into her mouth before moving the conversation some more. "Perhaps you should introduce him to Sebastian."

"Do _not _say his name in my presence," Kurt growled.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "The truth is, Dave isn't ready for a relationship. He's still figuring everything out, which is understandable." Blaine moved his now-empty plate toward the middle of the table, wiping the lemon scone crumbs off his lap. "I've been _out_ since freshmen year, and I still have my moments of insecurity. I know you're the same way," he said in reference to Kurt. "He really just needs friends who'll support him while he's dealing with everything."

"Friends," Kurt repeated. "The _opposite_ of that back-stabbing Warbler."

"Noted." Rachel smiled, a genuine one considering how amusing she found Kurt's disgust with the conniving competitor whose name was clearly off limits. If she had to guess, she'd imagine Kurt would send Sebastian to a crack house without so much as blinking an eye, a little because he was threatened but a lot more because he seemed to truly dislike him. "How is everything else? Is your father taking over Washington yet?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not yet. Right now he's too busy trying to prove he is Superman, refusing to accept the fact that he can't be a politician _and_ run the garage."

"The tire shop is an institution in Lima."

"Well he's going to be an institution at either Lima General or the morgue if he doesn't allot for his new career." Kurt sighed, accepting Blaine's gentle leg squeeze. "I've tried to help, but I know next to nothing about the business and even less about cars. Finn is the one who's really stepped up. All the workers have helped a lot, actually."

Rachel swallowed thickly, her head dipping down as she tried to formulate a question about Finn or even a completely different topic. She _didn't_ want to think about the tire shop workers, one in particular. One who, no matter how hard she tried, kept creeping into not just her thoughts but her daily life. It didn't take long for him to become such an important part of her life, all of it happening so quickly, in fact, that she hadn't prepared for the realization that he might not have been a permanent fixture.

She hoped the heartache, similarly, was temporary.

"I'm sorry. I made it twenty minutes. I can't ignore it anymore," Kurt sighed heavily, shaking his head as he leaned closer to Rachel. "I can't even remember you being this bad all the other times with Finn or even Jesse."

"Kurt …"

"No, it's fine." Rachel smiled softly at Blaine, appreciative of his decorum. However, she owed her best friend at least a little information, especially after refusing to talk to him all of Friday and Saturday – and that wasn't without a fight, either. "What do you want to know?"

Kurt stared at her dumbly. "What happened seems too obvious."

"Yeah," she laughed humorlessly. "Unfortunately that's the one question to which I still don't have the answer."

"How is that even poss …"

"Zip it, Mudslide." Santana stepped up to the table, her shoulders squared and her hands deep in the pockets of her cheerleading jacket. She was wearing a pair of jeans that looked painted on, surprising no one and everyone considering it was a rarity when they saw her without her Cheerio uniform on. "Let's go, Smurfette. You've had enough breakfast sausage for today."

Rachel blinked mindlessly at the Latina. "I beg your pardon?"

"We're going. Come on."

Santana snapped her fingers, and even though it didn't make any sense, Rachel couldn't help but follow her orders. There was something about the Latina that demanded attention, something that forced Rachel out of her seat and out of the coffee shop even though she'd been amongst friends and now … well, now she didn't know what was going on. Rachel hadn't even spoken to Santana since after the musical performance last Saturday, and she'd given no indication then that their friendship had changed from where it had always been – nonexistent.

"It's cold enough out here for my nipples to cut diamonds. Can ya hop to it a little?"

Rachel furrowed her brows in concentration, quickening her hesitant steps as she asked, "Where are we going?"

"Just get in the car, Shorty." Santana rolled her eyes, using the key fob to unlock the doors to what Rachel knew was the Latina's father's car. The Jaguar fit Santana's personality, but certainly not her budget. "I promise not to kill you."

She honestly wasn't worried about such a consequence until Santana mentioned it. They weren't typically friendly, but Rachel had never chalked it up to anything more than Santana was at the top of the popularity totem pole and Rachel was hovering near the bottom. After high school, at a reunion or if the glee club should meet up during a break or something, she imagined the two of them might actually be able to carry on a pleasant conversation. Things had already gotten significantly better since Santana came out and realized, like it or not, the kids in glee were her support system. She still had her guard up, but Rachel had seen glimpses of what Santana was like underneath.

"The mall just opened," Santana remarked as she pulled into a handicap parking spot, a hangtag permit appearing out of nowhere and certainly without just cause. "Hopefully no one who matters is here yet and they don't see us together."

Rachel frowned as she got out, following Santana toward the front entrance. "Pardon me, but if you don't want to be seen with me, then why did you pick me up and take me here?"

"Because," Santana snarled. "You're not going to win tomorrow at school playing the pity card. Everyone already thinks you're pathetic."

"I …" Rachel trailed off, deciding better of her knee-jerk reaction to defend herself. If she'd learned anything about Santana, it was that she had to pick her battles. So, instead, she ignored the insult to get to the matter at hand. "What precisely am I trying to win?"

Santana's entire body deflated, exhaustion etched on her face and in her now slow stride. "The _game_, Rachel." She shook her head in disgust, walking into a store in the mall Rachel had seen before but never been inside. "Puck's helped you out by being a big, mopey mess all Friday, but you damn well better believe he's going to bring his A-game mañana and we've got to fix you up to at least a seven or you're fucked."

There was a lot of information in that short statement, but Rachel couldn't help the breathless way she asked, "He was upset Friday?"

"_Yes_," Santana sighed, her eyes lifting in exasperation. "Fuckin' epic night and he looked like his dog died or some shit."

She didn't want to smile, but Rachel couldn't help it. The idea that perhaps she wasn't the only one hurting over the breakup was enough to pick up her mood at least a little. Plus, Rachel was also caught up in the fury that was Santana Lopez. She was clambering on and on about Friday's school day and then the football game all while sifting through racks of clothes that Rachel wasn't sure she'd be comfortable wearing. If she weren't sure the Latina would pull a razor blade from her hair, Rachel would make some sort of comment about how both she and Santana seemed to have an affinity for talking more than others might deem necessary.

She'd also never admit just how similar the Latina was to Puck, but for completely different reasons. After all, Rachel was sure Santana was already aware of her and Puck's commonalities, or they wouldn't be friends and ex-lovers. However, the part that would surely get Rachel crucified was how oddly comforting Rachel found the likeness. Before it might have made her nervous or even jealous, but it was almost endearing now. Like a poor man's substitute.

"And since he only answered like, three of my texts, my guess is he's still being a big baby about this whole thing." Santana pushed four or five hangers of clothes toward Rachel. "So we're going to hit him where it hurts."

Rachel stared down at the clothes, her face clearly showing her dissatisfaction.

"Luckily for you and your nonexistent chest, Puck is a legs and ass man. I'm not sure how you have the stems to pull it off – you must have no torso – but these skirts are basically clit huggers." Santana smiled like a Cheshire cat. "You'll have his attention _and_ every other loser's at our school."

"Santana," Rachel shook her head skeptically, "I don't think …"

"That's your first problem." Santana shoved the petite brunette toward a dressing room. "You're thinking too much. You've spent all weekend in the shadows of your room, wasting vital time that could have been used to put you ahead."

"Ahead … of the game?" Rachel questioned slowly, frowning more when Santana nodded. "I'm sorry if this upsets you, because I really do appreciate your intentions, but … I'm not playing a game." Rachel slumped down into the chair at the corner of the dressing room, the clothes falling into her lap heavily. "My relationship with Noah _wasn't_ a game. It was real." She choked on the word, causing her to need an extra breath before she finished her thought. "He just wasn't ready for it."

Santana sighed for about the millionth time since she'd showed up at The Lima Bean, almost collapsing against the far wall of the dressing room. She smoothed a hand over her perfectly straight hair and fiddled with the hem of her shirt that was peaking out underneath her coat. Rachel watched it all in fascination because next the Latina did something that Rachel had only seen maybe twice in the whole time they'd known one another. Santana looked Rachel right in the eye and actually looked at her like a human being. Like a friend.

"He's ready," Santana said, her voice so low that Rachel wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or just keeping the conversation private. "He just needs time to realize it. And, ya know, realize that it's okay, too."

Rachel considered her words, but couldn't wrap her head around them. "I don't understand."

"Look, I've seen him fool around with one chick at a party and then leave before the broad's panties were back on just to scam on another girl."

Rachel's nose scrunched in disgust. Knowing of Puck's past and hearing about it were two very different things. And, despite the current state of their relationship, Rachel didn't want to think of him in that light. She'd seen a side of him – _experienced_ a side of him – that was different and that was the person she chose to remember. The person he truly was, and not the one he'd pretended (and _was_ pretending) to be.

"What is your point?"

"My point is that he's never manned up before and admitted his feelings enough to ask me to make sure any other girl wasn't sitting in the bathroom slitting her wrists or anything."

Again, Rachel let Santana's words sink in before commenting. "Noah asked you to check up on me?"

"Well, duh," she scoffed. "Did you think we were friends or some shit?"

Her words were harsh and offensive, but Rachel couldn't stop the light laughter that filtered out of her body and into the small dressing room. Yes, it seemed obvious that Santana was just being loyal to her friend almost against her will, but there were a lot of layers underneath that were less obvious. Like Santana didn't hate Rachel enough to refuse. Like the fact that Santana was rooting for Rachel and Noah's relationship to work out.

Like Noah still cared deeply about Rachel.


	28. Plan Ahead

**Author's Note:** So for those of you who like introspective Puck, you are going to love this chapter. I could have probably posted the update yesterday, but I kept tweaking bits and pieces to make sure it stayed in character despite the situation. And I think it does, so I hope y'all agree and enjoy! I probably won't get the next update posted until the weekend at the earliest, so hopefully it holds you over, too.

As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and please continue to do so because it's always fun to see what you think of the chapter or what you pick out to comment on or ... anything! Thank you!

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><p>Puck walked into his fifth period English class, handing the teacher a tardy slip before moving to his spot in the back. He could feel Quinn's eyes on him almost immediately, and managed a casual smirk and shrug in her direction before grabbing his notebook from his bookbag and the pen from behind his ear. The teacher hadn't even paused in her lesson when he'd entered, and Puck was actually pretty grateful. His previous reputation for being late to class or nonexistent certainly gave the teacher plenty of ammunition. Luckily it looked like the only one he'd have to answer to was Quinn.<p>

It didn't take long for the nosey blonde to slip a note onto his desk, not nearly as stealthily as she could have but enough that the teacher didn't notice. Slowly – partially to torture her and partially so it wasn't obvious – Puck opened the intricately folded piece of paper. His eyes skimmed over the two words Quinn had written in purple pen, her handwriting loopy and extremely girly.

_You're pathetic._

He used his plain ballpoint pen to scribble a quick thanks in reply, balling up the note and tossing it back at her at just the right time. She sat a row ahead of him and a little to the left, but he saw her roll her eyes even in the distance. She'd always hated the way he'd make her spell everything out, but Puck didn't care. He knew what she'd meant, knew she was harping on the fact that he'd purposefully skipped first period and then lunch. But what did she expect? He might know he was a pussy, but he wasn't going to admit it – especially not in writing.

_You can't avoid her forever._

Her reply was less subtle this time, which he expected. It was, unfortunately for her, still very open-ended and gave him the chance to write back a simple, "Can try" before throwing the note back to her. He almost saw her desire to yell at him outweigh the knowledge that she had to keep quiet so the teacher wouldn't know what they were doing. It actually gave him hope that things might slowly go back to normal – that there was some resemblance of how things used to work - and he wouldn't always have this horrible feeling eating away at him. Then again, he'd hoped it would have dulled over the weekend, too, but no such luck.

_I'm trying to be your friend, Puck. We've been through a lot together and I know what you're doing. You don't always have to push good things away._

He read her reply at least three times, trying to decide just what to say in response. He couldn't really deny that they were friends, because she was right; they'd been through something together that sort of bonded them forever no matter how fucked up everything got. And because of that experience, they were well beyond the polite stage of friendship or even the loyal part. They were two people who knew the other enough to know what makes them tick and who weren't worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. Nothing would ever break the bond, so they could be as honest – and, therefore, as potentially mean – as they wanted because they weren't friends in the traditional sense.

Not that Puck had a lot of traditional friends. If he'd realized anything through his weekend of introspection – and, yes, that's basically what he did; he tried to distract himself with video games and shit, but everything kept coming back to his life and those in it and his head still hurt from all the stupid thinking he'd done the past two days – it was that all his relationships were pretty unconventional. His family life was weird because he'd taken on the man of the house role so young. Mr. Schuester was sort of a mentor, but so was Shelby and that was an insane placement for the adoptive mother of your biological daughter. Relationships with his classmates spanned from team member to old friends, with many shades of gray – Finn, Quinn, Artie, Sam and even Santana fit into that category.

And then there was Rachel. She was in a slot all by herself not because she'd been his girlfriend, but because she hadn't fit into any other category he could come up with. She wasn't family, obviously, despite what his ma and sister predicted for the future. And she didn't belong in the grouping with the bulk of his other friends because she meant more to him than all them … combined. Her role in his life, together or not, would always be significant. She'd taught him so much, about life, love, and most definitely himself. She was his best friend … so naturally he had to break her heart.

See, not traditional.

_Ain't that the pot callin' the kettle black?_

He handed the note to the impatiently waiting blonde, going back to his inner turmoil instead of the one the teacher was trying to describe – he really did need to read the book before the test. Maybe it was because he was talking to Quinn or because he was sitting in English, but he couldn't help but remember his paper about Nelson Mandela. It wasn't that long ago when he'd used those words to justify his actions, and now they were even more relevant. There _was_ nothing enlightening about shrinking so others around him wouldn't feel insecure. His deepest fear _was not_ that he was inadequate, but rather that he was more powerful than he gave himself credit for.

So, if he knew this, why was he still pulling away?

_I've learned from my mistakes._

Puck contemplated pointing out that she'd just admitted to the fact that she thought pushing him away back in sophomore year was a mistake. There was part of him that didn't want to, mostly because he wasn't sure he agreed. Maybe at the time he was pissed that she only saw him as a Lima Loser, but now he was able to see that she wasn't exactly wrong. He wouldn't have abandoned her or anything, but he was just a kid. They both were, and now that they've grown up he could see that despite her pain and immaturity then, she'd made the right choice – for all of them.

Luckily he didn't have to put any of that into words, though, because Quinn passed a new note toward him.

_I received early acceptance into Yale. Letter came Saturday._

Puck genuinely smiled and took time to legibly write, "Kick ass, Q!" She was the first of all of them to hear back from a college, and good news was definitely the wave Puck was hoping would catch on. Maybe it was because they were always thought of as the underdogs or just plain losers, but the glee kids' futures seemed to be more closely watched than the rest of the seniors'. And, for probably obvious reasons given the range of talent in the small group, many of them had high expectations for their lives beyond high school. Puck honestly wasn't asking for much in just hoping to get out of Lima.

_I heard you were all but handed a scholarship on Friday. Playing football at some school I've never heard of?_

It was true. The scout hadn't just handed Puck a business card and said he'd be in touch, but he'd meant it. The college recruiter had called Saturday while Puck was working and apparently talked to his mother for a full hour. He'd come home later that night to a string of about a million questions, the whole thing ending in a fit of tears when his mother had enough time to get over how grateful she was that her son had plans to go to college and, it would seem, at no cost and moved to focus on the fact that all of it wasn't happening in Lima. Or Ohio. Her _baby boy_ was leaving the nest, and the mama bird would gladly peck a hole in the truck's tires if it meant he'd stick around.

_Walden. _He responded on the third paper, shoving the other two deep down into his bookbag.

_ In New York, right?_

She asked almost immediately, as if she'd known he wouldn't bring it up first. Honestly, the location was just coincidental now. New York was a big place, and he wasn't expecting the fact that he'd be there and Rachel would be there to have any significance in his future. The only time he'd run into her would be if she accidentally caught him at one of her likely many future performances – ones he knew he couldn't allow himself to miss regardless of everything that had changed.

_Doesn't matter much without her._

It was a little too deep for him to admit out loud – or at all – but unconventional friends or not, Puck trusted Quinn. Plus, unlike Santana who was basically him in a skirt, Q was his only chance at the female perspective. Her and Rachel weren't at odds anymore (as much as before), so she might even have a little more intel than Santana, who had basically none. Or, rather, she was refusing to share despite the fact that he knew she'd done as he'd asked and checked up on Rachel yesterday.

_So get her back, idiot!_

Puck scoffed at her closing remark, the end of the conversation only because the bell rang and Puck quickly gathered his stuff before Quinn could comment any further. Legit, if she thought she was unearthing something he hadn't considered about a billion times since leaving Rachel at her car on Thursday, then she really deserved her hair color. But just because Puck was on his way to higher learning didn't mean he had the ability to do the impossible. It would be a miracle if he could salvage his friendship with Rachel, let alone anything more.

"Hello, Noah."

He whipped around, his own thoughts ringing in his ears as he looked at her for the first time in almost four days. He figured it was because of all the drama and just the length of time in general, but she looked better than he remembered. Her hair seemed shinier, fuller waves framing her beautiful face. Her dress/tights combination wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but his eyes followed the curves of her body as if he didn't know every line and crevice anyway. Slowly he moved back up to her face, noting the lopsided smile before honing in on the deep, chocolate eyes that were staring back at him.

"Hey," he choked out, trying to sound indifferent while students passed by the pair – many very aware of what was going on but none interested enough to stop and gawk. "H-how ya doin'?"

She smiled a little wider, nodding her head a bit. "I'm well. And yourself?"

For whatever reason, he seemed to sense that she was just playing along with what had to be the most awkward conversation ever. But the smile on her face and the fact that she was talking to him at all seemed promising. It was just like her to push aside her own pain to try to ease his. A lot of people saw Rachel as self-centered and completely overdramatic (she definitely could be those things), but when it came to the people she cared about she often put them first – as long as her career wasn't involved.

"Fuck." Puck blew out a heavy breath, his hand scraping over the back of his head. His hair was starting to come in and he still hadn't decided if he was going to buzz it again, let the Mohawk return, or just let the hair grow out a little. In the back of his mind, he wondered which Rachel would prefer. "This sucks."

Rachel laughed humorlessly. "It could certainly be better."

His mind flashed for just a moment with how much better it could be, how much better it had been. Blurry images of exposed skin and whispered words settled in front of his eyes, forcing him to close them just to try to get back on track. He knew it wasn't actually possible to forget those things (not that he'd ever admit to missing even the gentler things of being in a relationship). But, when he opened them, Rachel was lifting a shoulder emptily and preparing to speak again.

"At least we made it a full seven days this time."

He actually chuckled at the observation. "Yea. And I got some boob action."

"That's right." She giggled, too, even though her cheeks flashed red. He wanted to point out that she'd said some much dirtier things to him only a week ago, but she again beat him to the punch. "And who knows? Perhaps we'll make it a full two weeks next time."

Puck smirked, caught up in how much their roles had reversed. He'd already figured out that they were both the type of person who faked confidence in front of others, even if it was usually for different reasons. But now they'd both managed to wrestle their way into the other's heart, allowing those subtle glimpses of insecurity and vulnerability seem so transparent. She was playing him like an audience just to save face, and he was letting her for the same reason.

"Or maybe Finn was right."

His smile quickly faded. "Finn?"

"I spoke with him last week, after you two got into the scuffle at the garage." She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, her eyes near his enough that it appeared as if she were looking at him but she wasn't. "We were talking about his situation, but he'd said that it was silly to assume we'd end up with someone we met in high school. I tried to ignore it, even had the petty thought that I could prove him wrong, but now I suppose I can admit he might have had a point."

Puck didn't spend more than a second thinking about Finn and Quinn ending up living happily ever after before moving on to his relationship with Rachel. Part of him knew there was some merit to Finn's comment. They were still really young and there were tons of new people to meet and have different experiences with. But, at the same time, he struggled to imagine someone better for him than Rachel. Someone who he'd grow to care enough about that he wouldn't just use them for sex or status. Someone who'd understand why he acted the way he did and simultaneously tolerated it and didn't take his shit.

Someone who didn't just believe in him, but taught him to believe in himself.

"Maybe," he finally said, noticing her nervous fidgeting; she probably thought she was talking too much. "But a guy can dream. Right?"

Her eyes lit up so bright that he was almost blinded, but he didn't dare look away. There was hope twinkling behind the melted chocolate expression, and it took everything in him not to do the "Puck" thing and just take what he wanted.

"It appears so," she stated cryptically, her smile widening to match the brightness of her eyes. "I heard about Walden." She sighed heavily, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm so proud of you, Noah."

"Yeah. Thanks." His mom had said it about a hundred times since Saturday, his sister, too, and Quinn just a few minutes ago. But none compared to her. "Maybe I'll see ya around the city."

Her smile turned sideways much like her head, a twinkle in her eyes. "Does this mean you're finally admitting we're friends?"

He couldn't have stopped the bubble of laughter that filtered out into the empty hallway, the sound only drowned out by the bell ringing. They were both late to their next class and would probably both get in trouble, but he couldn't help the casual wink he threw her before they parted. They _were_ friends, but that wasn't good enough. Not anymore. Not since he knew what it was like to be more.

And he could be more again.

Not because she still believed he could be, or even to spite Finn (who clearly thought he slash all high schoolers couldn't). But, rather, because he knew he could. She'd given him the confidence to believe in himself, and he was going to give it back to her – to believe in them. To believe that he knew he'd made a mistake and now it didn't matter who wasn't on their side. As long as they were on the same page, they'd be fine. And not just two-weeks fine, but … maybe his ma and sister were right. Maybe they'd be fine forever.

He wouldn't know until he told her, though. And, for that, he needed a plan. Something that expressed not just how stupid he'd been, but proved that he wasn't just doing it for those extra two weeks. Something that showcased his feelings, but didn't make him seem like a wimp. _Something_ that convinced her he'd changed, and made her understand it was because of and for her.

And as he sat in his next class and thought of the perfect plan, he realized all he'd really need to make all those pieces come together was to muster up a bit of the confidence he'd always pretended to have.


	29. For You I Will

**Author's Note:** I meant to post this on Wednesday, then again on Thursday, and then I went out of town and had to wait all the way until tonight to update. My bad. I'd like to say I have a good excuse, but I happen just to be that stupid. :)

This might come as a shock to some, but this is the last chapter before the epilogue. I know. It's been a journey and a half and I'm sad to see this world come to an end (especially considering the 'reality' that will be back on our TVs in no time). Regardless, I have to say super duper thanks to everyone who is still reading and responding. I love all the comments (even if they were bad, I would!) and ask that you keep them coming while we finish up! ENJOY!

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><p>Rachel stood alone backstage, doing her normal routine where she first hummed and then went through her runs to loosen up her vocal chords. The other members always made fun of her for taking things so seriously, which was why she was pleased to have the entire right side of the backstage to herself; to spice things up this year, Mr. Schuester had orchestrated Finn and Rachel to come out from opposite sides of the stage and meet in the middle. A little more than halfway through, the rest of New Directions would appear on the four balconies over the crowd; it was a nice plan other than the fact that it required the entire group to then rush back down for the rest of the performance <em>and<em> for Sam, Puck and Mike to do so while carrying Artie and his wheelchair down the stairwell.

It was unnecessary showmanship, only a little less so than blatant hairography, but Rachel had given up arguing with Mr. Schuester. This competition was all about his vision, and if she wasn't going to win the duet battle then she certainly didn't care about the rest of it. In fact, the insanity of the entire plan had been the subject of a rather civil conversation between her and Noah just the other day. And even though it was just a silly discussion between two people who were just friends now, Rachel was grateful for any time she got to spend with her ex-boyfriend.

Ex-lover.

It was an odd concept, Rachel as a harlot. When she'd decided to be with Noah, she'd done so after much consideration. It happened much faster than she'd ever imagined, developing those feelings of not just love but longing and desire, but she'd made sure the decision was sound and not a spur of the moment thing. Even if she did allow herself to imagine the possibility that her and Noah wouldn't last forever, she'd never thought it would be over so quickly. She'd never thought they'd be together in _that way_ one week and then not the very next.

And even though she'd worried it was going to be awkward, she found herself feeling quite the opposite. Just like he'd done that night to eventually make her go through with it, even apart he had a way about him that calmed her nerves. He'd given her the confidence to love herself, which it turned out wasn't just one of those inane things people say. Now that she wasn't looking over her shoulder every second wondering if someone prettier or more talented (less likely) was behind her, Rachel felt free. Others had already commented in just the few short days since after her and Noah's breakup and the start of another school week how much more relaxed Rachel seemed. There were still remnants of her broken heart, obviously, but the tension she'd carried around with her in the past had been lifted.

Noah, too, seemed to be doing well since they'd ran into each other before sixth period on Monday. She hadn't seen him much in the past two days outside of glee and their science class, but she knew he wasn't avoiding her like before. She didn't, however, know what he _was_ doing, but part of her figured that was better. He'd been spending a lot of time with Quinn and Santana, and while she knew the latter of the two was likely just acting as a friend, Rachel wasn't so sure about the blonde. Finn had stopped pursuing Quinn after he and Rachel talked last week, and Quinn didn't even seem to care that Mercedes and Sam were officially back on. Rachel knew Quinn was focused on her future at Yale, but she also knew that nothing would change the past and how connected she and Puck were.

"Hey."

Rachel turned, smiling softly at Finn. Even if she wasn't particularly pleased with the set list or the choreography, their costumes were quite lovely this time around. Finn looked completely ridiculous and almost too adorable in suspenders, and how Kurt managed to find them in the same shade of gold to match the girls' sashes was partially scary and partially amazing. Plus, she knew the outfit hadn't been entirely Kurt's idea; the gold bow ties the boys were sporting had Blaine's name all over them. And considering both of their loves for shoes, she imagined the ankle-cut boots the girls were wearing was a combined effort.

"Hi," she finally responded back, stepping away from her side of the stage and closer to the back area where Finn was. "Ready?"

He chuckled nervously. "I guess." He shrugged. "I know we're not supposed to get complacent or whatever you and Mr. Schue always say, but I'm not too worried."

Rachel nodded because she knew he was right. They didn't want to go into the competition thinking they'd already won, but the truth was it shouldn't be too difficult for them to clinch this one. The Warblers had come out on top during their district's showing, and Rachel knew New Directions would do the same this evening in theirs. It would be regionals where they were heavily tested, a competition where hopefully the students would have a little more say in the performance instead of just blindly following their director's dream.

"Is your mom here tonight?" She asked, distracting herself from the resentment she knew would build quickly if she kept going down that path of thinking.

"Yeah." He grinned boyishly. "I'm surprised she's not back here straightening my tie or something."

"It _is_ a little to the left," she pointed out, giggling when his smile turned down to a frown. Rachel took two more steps to stand right in front of him, lifting up to adjust the tie's position. She also fixed his collar and brushed away some lint from his shoulders. In the back of her mind, she wondered _how_ Finn would manage to survive without someone watching out for him if he did end up leaving Lima. Then, just as quickly, she knew it would be good for him – just like it would be good for all of them – to see what the world outside this small town had to offer them. "There."

"Thanks." He pushed his shoulders back and stood taller, managing to move his tie out of position again. "H-how are you?"

Rachel smiled softly. While she hadn't been a wash in sadness about the breakup as she'd been over the weekend, she hadn't been particularly talkative so far this week, either. Everyone had surely noticed, but Finn had been one of few to not ask the inevitable question. Oddly enough, she knew it was because he cared whereas the others probably didn't. Plus, he had a little bit more at stake – emotionally speaking – considering he was _also_ an ex-boyfriend.

"I'm better," she answered honestly but vaguely. Sparing his feelings also managed to spare her own. "Ready to win this."

He grinned widely. "Totally." His eyes shifted to the left and then the right, his head turning in a similar direction afterward. "Where's Mr. Schue?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Her ears perked up, listening to the choir currently on stage just in time to hear the group wail their last note. They received a moderately appropriate applause, but Rachel moved her attention back to Finn. "But it seems we might be on our own."

"Not exactly."

"What?" She questioned, turning and following the direction he'd pointed his head during his last statement. Her eyebrows lifted high onto her forehead as her eyes widened, noticing almost the entire group of New Directions surround her and Finn. "What are you doing here? We're on." Then she saw Artie and really lost it. "You're going to miss your mark. Where's Noah? Sam, Mike, Blaine, take Artie …"

And then she heard it. The announcer presented McKinley High's New Directions, and instead of the silence she expected to hear, guitar strums echoed in her ears. It made no sense, but she knew just from the precise pluck of the strings that the _entire_ group wasn't at her side. Rather, it was missing a distinct member, one whose voice was the perfect complement to the chords he was currently playing on stage. On stage, where Finn and Rachel were meant to be singing a duet.

"Where's Mr. Schuester?"

"_That's_ your first question?" Quinn asked comically, shaking her head a little. "He's helping Santana. She pretended to break her ankle."

"For reals. I'm a better actress now than you'll ever be," Santana stated as she pranced up to the group, a satisfied smirk on her face and her hands on her hips. "Brillo Head is pissed, but whatevs."

Rachel stared blankly at the Latina, knowing she should have more questions (about a million of them were circling in her head) or at least a tantrum dedicated to both Santana and Quinn's harshness, but she was unable to focus on anything but _his_ voice echoing backstage. It was so strong and so memorizing; she could almost hear the audience swooning at his song selection – or, more likely, stage presence. She'd heard the song before, but what was more obvious was the sound of a smile in his voice. Not a smirk or even a grin, but a genuine smile – maybe because he got away with stealing their performance but likely because he truly believed the words he was singing.

_Forgive me if I s-stutter_

_From all the clutter in my head_

'_Cause I could fall asleep in those eyes_

_Like a water bed_

_Do I seem familiar?_

_I've crossed you in hallways a thousand times_

_No more camouflage; I want to be exposed_

_And not be afraid to fall_

_I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have_

_And cannonball into the water_

_I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have_

_For you I will_

_You always want what you can't have_

_But I've gotto try_

_I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have_

_For you I will_

_For you I will_

_For you I will_

_For you_

"Let's go, Frankenteen." Santana grabbed Finn's hand. "Time for the group number."

"What about Rachel?" He asked, clearly confused. Rachel was glad she wasn't the only one who seemed out of the loop.

"We've got this. Let's go." The Latina kept pulling, moving the tall teen away from the petite brunette and toward the left side of the stage with a few others while the other half went to the right.

Rachel watched as the group ran onto the stage just as the song ended, the original set list back in place despite her absence. Her _and_ Noah's absence since he'd strolled off stage with his guitar perched on his back and his eyes honed in on her. Even in the distance she could see his nerves get the best of him, his suaveness deflating when he noticed her unreadable expression. And honestly, she wanted to smile. She wanted the unshed tears in her eyes to fall. She wanted to jump up and down and then into his arms.

But something was stopping her.

"Noah …"

"I was scared," he interrupted hoarsely, his voice strong and urgent.

It was such a short statement, but it was immediately enough to push her back into the gleeful state she felt while listening to his performance. He wasn't just relying on his musical abilities to woo her, but rather he knew his audience. First he had to get her attention, and then he had to keep it – by doing what she knew was harder for him than it was others: Talking.

"It was like everyone and everything was against us and I couldn't even disagree with any of the shit because I thought they all had a point because I am kinda an ass and clearly a fuck up since I did exactly what they all said I was gonna do." He blew out a breath, running a frustrated hand over the back of his head while she just stared at him, perplexed by what could only be considered an outburst since he was well known as the strong, silent type. "And this is like, the part where I'm supposed to tell ya I'm gonna change and shit, but I think we both know I'm always gonna be a little bit of a jerk. But, also, like … I _have_ changed. _You_ changed me, and I know what I did sucked balls but I'll do whatever to pay ya back."

She smiled, mostly in memory of their _first _breakup on the bleachers. It was amazing that it was only two years ago, but he was right. He had changed. They both had, and now they were two completely different people. "Did you think I wasn't scared?"

"I dunno." He shrugged.

"I was petrified," she breathed out, the amazement obvious in her voice. His response had been short and she wondered if he was reverting back to his typical conversation style, but she figured she owed him some honestly considering how open he'd just been. "Everything between us happened so quickly, so fiercely, and yet I knew without all my typical overanalyzing and plotting that it was right." Her head bowed down, her eyes falling to her hands wringing in front of her lap. "I loved you, Noah."

She looked back up, a few of those tears that had been in her eyes finally falling when she focused on his sullen expression. She actually felt a wave of relief wash over her, knowing he looked upset because she had used the word 'love' in the past tense; she liked that bit of reassurance that she knew him better than probably anyone else. He'd tested that theory and tried to prove her wrong, but it was as true now as it had been then.

"Last year, I told Finn that you forgive your first love of anything." She licked her lips. "And even though you were my first boyfriend, I think we both know you weren't my first love."

Puck nodded his head stoically, squaring his shoulders a little while his fists clenched at his sides. He thought she was letting him down easily, and Rachel only had one way to convince him otherwise. So she stepped forward and pressed her frame into his, capturing his lips in the most passionate kiss she could muster up against his shocked lips. He was Puck, though, so it didn't take long for him to respond to the embrace, his arms circling around her tiny waist and holding her tight. She could feel the tension melt out of his muscles, a low moan of satisfaction the only sound she heard outside of the end of the first New Directions group number.

Slowly the two parted, their arms still wrapped around one another and their foreheads resting against each other's while they regained their breath. "You weren't my first love, Noah, but that almost makes this mean more." She tilted her head back a little just so she could more clearly see the color of his eyes. She wasn't necessarily looking for reassurance, but rather just enjoyed the depth of emotion she could find in the hazel orbs. He wasn't going to question her motives, but she could see the confusion he felt floating in the depths. "This way there is no reason for me to accept your apology other than I can't imagine being without you."

He attacked her lips again, unforgiving in the way he almost dominated her with his mouth. There was so much urgency in the kiss, but it ended almost as quickly as it began. "I fuckin' love you."

"I know." She couldn't help the wide smile from forming even if she'd wanted to. "I've always known that."

"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Berry," he joked lowly, never loosening his grip. Instead, his hands were moving slowly up and down her back, his eyes scattering over her frame in a similar fashion. It was like he was trying to memorize her. "Sorry we missed the gig."

Rachel surprised even herself when she shrugged. "This performance was quite lovely." Before he could remark that his confession hadn't been a performance (she knew it wasn't), she added, "As was yours."

"Thanks," he scoffed, still not one to accept compliments. "I just hope it ain't my last."

"As long as we win, I don't think it should matter how we did it."

"I guess hijackin' the show ain't as bad as sending some poor chick to a crack house."

He chuckled when she playfully swatted at his chest. "_Regardless_, if Mr. Schuester even threatens disciplinary action, I shall stand up for you." Then she bit her lip, shrugging one shoulder emptily. "But, inquiring minds would like to know how you managed to pull off something of this magnitude in such a short amount of time."

"Let's just say ya had a right to be scared of Santana and Quinn." He shook his head a little. "Those bitches could rule the fuckin' world if they worked together."

Rachel actually giggled, accepting his explanation with a nod of her head. "Why was it necessary for them to work with you so quickly, though?"

Puck's casual smirk slowly faded, his eyes moving to hers. His expression continued to morph as he studied her, his scrutiny making her squirm. It felt like he was trying to look into her soul, but looked more like he was trying to reach into his own. Then he opened his mouth to speak, and the roughness of his voice paired with his words managed to take her breath away.

"I don't wanna be without you, either."

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> The song used in this chapter is "For You I Will (Confidence)" by Teddy Geiger. Love, love, love it.


	30. Epilogue: As Long As You're Mine

**Author's Note:** Well here it is. The end. Finally. This was such an insane story and I quickly realized just how big of a bite I had to chew while writing it, but hopefully the journey was realistic and enjoyable - including this end. It took longer to get out than I would have liked, but it is also much longer than usual and features what I believe to be the perfect balance of everything this story entailed (friendships, love, sexiness ...). As always, I want to thank everyone for being so awesome, especially those who have hung around during all this lag time (so not me!) and are still reading and reviewing. Hopefully you'll continue doing so with this last chapter.

Now that this one is done, I think I'll definitely be taking a step back from multichapter stories. However, I do have at least one one-parter that I want to write and post as soon as possible just because of the timing of things, and then there are other prompts I got when requested that were also interesting that I might give a try (if I can find the time). So, it might be the end of this one, but I'll still be around so hopefully I'll see your guys' names in the reviews of my future stuff! Thanks so much!

**Disclaimer:** The song used is "As Long As Your Mine" from the Wicked soundtrack. It was the original prompt and has been referenced more than once in the story, so it should be no big shock. I still can't get the verses to break up no matter how much HTML coding I try, so sorry about that!

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><p>Puck walked into the men's restroom, fiddling with the cuffs of his long-sleeve shirt to try to loosen them for the hundredth time. He was used to dressing up for glee and temple and stuff, so he wasn't acting like a five-year-old (as Quinn had assumed). Rather, it was the end of May and they were in Nashville, apparently in a building that was authentic because it hadn't upgraded to using a central air system like <em>everyone<em> else. He was legit swimming in balls soup and the bathroom was the one cool spot he'd been able to find in his hour of meandering.

"Oh," Sam said sheepishly, both boys stopping in their tracks and just staring at the other for a few moments. "Hey."

Puck cocked one eyebrow up mockingly, the other side of his mouth quirking up, too. "Hey," he mimicked, a short chuckle escaping as he shook his head. In any other instance, it would have been way weird to walk into the restroom and see another dude walking around in his boxers – especially when paired with a long-sleeve dress shirt and black socks – but Puck was just sorry to admit he hadn't been ballsy enough to do it. Granted, he wasn't used to wearing underwear all the time, so he had an excuse.

"It's really hot in that room."

"I know." Puck nodded, pulling the shirt from his pants and unbuttoning the tiny buttons to reveal a white undershirt. He instantly felt a draft swirl around his torso and he breathed a sigh of relief. "This is my third trip here."

Sam laughed, relief washing over his face. "Who decided that we needed to get dressed so far in advance?"

"I think Schue, but I heard Berry's voice in his reasoning." Puck leaned against the cold brick of the far wall, his eyes closing at the blissful sensation of _not_ feeling like he was on fire. "I'mma melt on stage at this rate."

Sam nodded, slathering on another layer of deodorant under one arm and then moving to the next. "Are you nervous?"

"Nah."

"I'm nervous," he admitted after a scoff. "And I don't have a duet with powerhouse Rachel Berry."

Puck just shrugged, not knowing how to explain why he wasn't nervous. He wasn't even trying to be cool and just pretending not to be nervous. He really wasn't; he'd been nervous before (and during) his solo at sectionals, but that had nothing to do with the performance. And a duet with Rachel was pretty intimidating, but they'd sung together before and, outside of practicing a million times because it _was _Rachel, it was always pretty effortless.

They just sounded good together.

"Gross," Sam interrupted Puck's thoughts, shaking his head. "I can actually hear your thoughts."

Puck chuckled, shrugging his shoulders apathetically while continuing to let his mind wander. He and Rachel sounded good together because they had good chemistry. They always had, even before they crossed the lines of something less to friends to something more. It was probably what made it hard for them to let go of the other, a reason to fight for their relationship. Like something as good as them shouldn't be wasted, even if it was hard sometimes – more often than not because he was being an ass or she was acting like a lunatic.

"S'kinda crazy that it'll all be over soon, though," Puck remarked, deciding to go back to the prior conversation. "I can't remember when I wasn't in the fuckin' glee club."

"You still not doing it next year?"

Puck shook his head. "You?"

"Probably not." Sam shrugged, retrieving his dress pants from where they were hanging nicely over one of the stalls. "Athletics are a bit more time consuming in college, and I can't afford to lose my scholarship."

Puck sighed in agreement, knowing exactly what Sam meant. If it weren't for his full ride to Walden, Puck wouldn't even be going to college probably, let alone in New York. Sam was offered a few scholarships to a lot of different places for his insane baseball skills, but only a couple that would pay for everything. Sam had way better grades than Puck, though, and could have gone a lot further away if he wanted, but the blonde was really close to his family. His little siblings totally looked up to him, whereas Puck's little sister was already redecorating his room for when he left in August.

"I'll stick with being the cliché guy at the party with a guitar."

"Fastest way into a chick's pants, no question." Puck pushed himself off the wall, figuring he should follow Sam's cue; they'd been hiding in here awhile. "What?"

Sam stopped shaking his head, looking directly at Puck with a teasing smile. "Sometimes I'm amazed you're dating Rachel. Still."

"Fuck." Puck laughed, too, shaking his head as he turned and grabbed for the door handle. "Me too."

He walked out of the restroom as Sam was finishing buckling his pants, only getting a few steps away from the door before he spotted Finn down the hallway. The tall teen grimaced a smile in Puck's direction, loosening his tie as he walked closer. Puck could see the beads of sweat on Finn's brow, saw the way he was breathing heavily just from existing inside the space.

"I thought the air would be cooler up there," Puck joked, tilting his head up so Finn would understand he was making fun of his height.

"Not at all," Finn bemoaned, finally removing the tie and unbuckling the two top buttons of his dress shirt just so his neck could breathe. Puck still hadn't buttoned his back up, but Finn was also still weird about his body. "It's like an oven in here."

"Go to the bathroom." He snorted out a laugh when Finn stared at him blankly. Puck could almost hear Finn's thought process, wondering if he'd missed a science class that talked about how taking a leak would help cool him down. "S'the only place that isn't hot as a crotch."

Finn's eyes perked up. "Cool." The two switched positions, Puck intending to continue back to the room where the rest of New Directions were until Finn stopped him, his voice hesitant. "Just, like, good luck." Finn shrugged. "No hard feelings or whatever."

Puck nodded, knowing what Finn was talking about. It was no secret the tall teen was a bit pissed about not getting the lead duet with Rachel, especially because it was his senior year. He'd been somewhat of a pain in the ass for the past few weeks, but Puck knew it didn't really have to do with glee or even any pent up jealousy. The fact that high school was almost over really hit Finn hard after prom; Rachel had told him that Finn had said someone had said something to him afterward when he was wearing the prom king crown about peaking in high school. Puck wasn't supposed to know that, but he figured Finn was unconsciously trying to prove that person wrong.

And weren't they all, in some regard?

"Thanks." He started backing away even though they were still talking. "Kill your drum solo."

"Always do," Finn answered with a smirk, turning away and heading into the restroom while Puck continued toward the green room.

Or at least that was the plan. Unfortunately, someone else had a different idea in mind, swiftly grabbing him and pulling him into a dark room with little to no regard to his destination. Frankly, he didn't care because the room he'd been dragged into was almost ten degrees cooler than the bathroom, and he could hear the heavenly sound of a fan oscillating nearby. It also helped that he knew exactly who was pressed right against him, and no amount of heat was going to make him complain about that.

"I've been waiting for you."

"All your life?" He teased, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. He could make out the subtle lines of her face, the outline of her silhouette. Her hair was styled in some crazy updo that left some tendrils of curled hair framing her face, and he couldn't help but gently tug on one while his other hand planted onto her hip. The fan pushed his shirt open but he could only feel the scorched touch of her tiny hands on his abdomen.

"You were in the restroom forever," she stated, her fingers sneaking underneath the thin fabric of his undershirt. Puck hissed in response, and she couldn't help but smile. "Do I want to know?"

"It's fuckin' hot in this place."

"I have a remedy for that."

Puck smirked, cocking his eyebrows together and drawling out, "Oh yeah?"

She hummed in response, her hands moving up his chest and over his shoulders, sliding his dress shirt down and off his body but not daring to let the garment fall helplessly to the dirty floor. "Less clothes."

Puck breathed out a laugh and then inhaled the sweet scent of her shampoo wafting in the air courtesy of the fan. It was green apple this month and it smelled almost as good as she tasted. Then again, last month's cherry vanilla was pretty hard to beat; it was almost better than the lavender shit she'd been wearing during mid-terms. So damn calming and yet made him hard as a rock now whenever he smelled it growing in his backyard.

"Ms. Berry, are you trying to seduce me?"

Rachel giggled but didn't let his teasing stop her, which he was pretty thankful for. They'd been so busy this month between senior exams and nationals that they hadn't really been together other than a couple times – near prom and before exams, as a stress reliever. Legit, best thing about Rachel Berry for $1,000, Alex? Answer: Sex Kitten. He'd never been into the whole coy act before, but maybe that was because the other chicks he used to bang were just pretending. Rachel actually thought she was being sly when she'd approach him for sex, or she was just too fucking adorable to even care about how lame she'd tried to cover up how horny she was.

"Fuck, babe." Puck's head sagged to her bare shoulder when her hands reached dangerous territory, the damp skin of his forehead sliding against her perfectly smooth but slightly sticky skin. "We gotta go on soon."

"We can go fast," she purred.

And, yeah, any resolve that he might have had just flew out the nonexistent window. He'd already had her pressed against something and it didn't take long for him to hoist up her legs and place her on top of what he now knew was a table. Her breathy sigh was hot on his ear but didn't register as anything other than sinfully sexy, his hands tensing as he resisted the urge to rip whatever she was wearing off her body. Instead he hurriedly removed his own clothing, not bothering to step out of the pants considering he had no intention of doing anything more than just sliding her panties to one side before slamming into her.

"Noah," she hiccupped when she felt him slide against her center, her grip on his shoulders tightening painfully. She yelped out when he bit her shoulder softly, her head falling back a little. "No marks."

"Where anyone can see. I know," he grunted, sliding his tongue over the spot he'd just nibbled on. He could taste a hint of sweat and he was momentarily lost at how something so gross and unpleasant on him could be absolutely delicious and incredible on her. He moved to her neck and then under her ear, leaving a different kind of moisture in his wake. He got off on the feel of goosebumps rising on her thighs when the cool air from the fan mixed with the lingering moisture on her neck and jawline before he finally made it to her lips.

He groaned at the taste of apple from the chapstick she'd clearly used beforehand – likely just to fuck with him since she normally refrained from wearing shiny makeup during performances - pushing him far enough over the edge that he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to have her right then and he wasn't dumb enough to think he was going to be able to make it last. Luckily he knew enough tricks about his girl to have her screaming his name in no time, though she'd probably try to keep quiet considering the venue. And Rachel Berry trying to be quiet (and most always failing miserably)? Hottest. Thing. Ever.

"Ya want me to touch ya, baby?"

Rachel mumbled her agreement, leaning back onto her elbows and somehow arching her hips up at the same time even though her legs were wrapped tightly around him. Puck moaned at the new angle, both the resulting friction and the sight of her lithe frame tilted up so invitingly pushing him even closer than he already was. His fingers gripped the soft yet taut flesh of her perfect ass, pulling her impossibly close while he pounded into her. Rachel tossed her head back, a long, drawn out moan surrounding the pair until Puck moved one hand to tease the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where they were connected. After that, Rachel's voice became nonexistent, the pitch too high for humans to hear as she climbed the last leg of the mountain.

Before she tumbled completely over the edge, though, she reached down and removed his hand from her center, pulling it and him forward. She left a sloppy kiss on the palm of his hand before he moved it behind her neck and pulled her forward to meet his lips halfway. Their tongues mimicked his powerful thrusts, and Puck swallowed Rachel's gasp when she couldn't hold on anymore. His own orgasm followed closely behind, his thrusts slowing almost immediately and his torso hovering closely over hers after she collapsed in exhaustion; his arms weakly held much of his weight off her, but just barely.

"Holy hell," he huffed out, his breath slowly regulating.

Rachel laughed lightly. "Hot?"

"Ya always are," he stated gruffly, not really answering Rachel's question but earning himself a pleasant nonverbal reply of her own. Yes, the hot sex was unbelievable and he'd loved when Rachel shed those insecurities and allowed herself to be so open and free, but he liked the other side, too. When he wasn't with her, back during Finn and everything, Puck convinced himself that he couldn't do the monogamy thing because he sucked at talking about his feelings and didn't care about girl problems. But he actually liked the soft side of his and Rachel's relationship. He craved the tender, languid embraces, the ones that seemed to sing with the knowledge that she'd chosen him over everyone else for something other than just sex. She was proud of him, saw the good in him; she trusted him in every possible way, and he likewise.

"Are you ready for our duet?"

"Again? Already?"

Rachel rolled her eyes at his joke, pushing at his chest while she rose to a seated position. She hopped off the table and smoothed down the skirt of her dress as soon as Puck stepped back and worked on replacing all his clothes. She snuck in and helped him with a few buttons, pressing another soft kiss to his lips as she tied his bowtie effortlessly. He pretended to try to straighten the bow that was on her dress - covering her cleavage but somehow amplifying it at the same time – but she swatted him away with a laugh.

"I'll see you out there." Rachel lifted to her toes, planting a hard kiss on his lips, likely to tell him without words to shut up. "I love you."

"Back atcha, babe."

Rachel accepted his words and the charming wink with a smile, well-versed in her boyfriend's terms of endearment. He _was_ the strong and silent type, after all, and she'd be sorely disappointed if he returned her affections in a manner that was not his own. She knew how he felt and he surprised her by actually saying it from time to time – it actually made it more special when he did considering the words didn't just fall from his mouth every second – so instead of berate him, Rachel left the room without so much as a backward glance. She did it partially to make sure she actually left and didn't just stay inside the cooler sanctuary with her boyfriend, but also in case there was someone lingering in the hallway who might be suspicious of why she was inside the room to begin with. There wasn't, which likely meant that another group was on stage and New Directions was on next.

"I spent a lot of time on your hair for you to just go and let it get messed up."

Rachel turned at the sound of Kurt's voice, an innocent smile perched on her face. "Is it messed up?"

Kurt snorted out a laugh, shaking his head while he moved to her side and synced up with her fast-paced steps. "You've gotten much smarter over the past few months."

Rachel didn't respond more than a light giggle, which only proved Kurt's point more. While it was true that she was more sexually charged than others (and herself) might have expected, her sex life was not on for public broadcast. Most already assumed her active status based on the fact that Puck wouldn't have lasted as long as he'd had without that integral part of the relationship, and their sometimes heated embraces in the hallway weren't exactly subtle. But Rachel took the rumors and the jokes from those closest to her (and to Puck) in stride because she knew their relationship was so much more than just the physical.

"I got my roommate assignments today. Kyle something, also in the music program." Kurt shrugged. "He seems nice and whatever, but I'm still having trouble letting go of the plan we envisioned outside of Breakfast at Tiffany's in junior year."

"You made the right decision," Rachel reasoned, used to reassuring her friend. "And the NYADA campus is very close to NYU. We'll see each other all the time."

Kurt scoffed. "When you're not in Brooklyn visiting your boyfriend."

"Don't be ridiculous." Rachel's smile grew wider, almost devilish. "I don't have a roommate; he'll be visiting me."

"There you guys are!" Blaine interrupted Kurt's remark despite the latter's open mouth and likely witty comeback. "Santana had to take Mercedes outside. She thought she was going to pass out."

"Is she okay?" They both asked at the same time, their steps rushing in the direction Blaine was leading them.

The second the trio pushed open the front doors, Rachel saw Mercedes sitting on the top step with a bottle of water perched in her hands. Santana was standing close by, fanning herself with one of those old-fashioned hand fans that were intricately decorated. Given Mercedes current state, it would be easy to assume everyone was having difficulty dealing with the heat, but Rachel knew better than to mention such; Santana would likely turn the innocent remark around on the petite brunette, claiming it was a racially insensitive comment since she felt fine thanks to her Latin roots.

"I'm fine," Mercedes assured quickly, licking her lips. "Heat and nerves don't mix."

"Are you sure you are fine, Mercedes? Will you be able to perform?"

"You already have a duet. You want my solo, too?" The black girl joked, winking at Rachel as she stood up and wiped off any possible debris from the back of her dress. "Don't worry about me. Just try not to maul your partner on stage this year, mkay?"

Rachel rolled her eyes but nodded obediently, turning along with the rest of the group to head back inside. Everyone else was already in place backstage, Noah standing alone on the right side of the curtain. She knew it was silly considering she'd be singing with him on stage in less than a few minutes, but she had the urge to at least walk over and wish him luck. Not that he needed it; Mercedes might have been more correct in wishing _Rachel_ luck, as both knew it wouldn't be easy for the latter to resist letting desire overcome her yet again.

The duet wasn't just a powerful song that would be sung by her and Noah, two people who happened to have amazing musical chemistry. But, more than that, the lyrics were still very much the foundation for their relationship, almost requiring Rachel to remember that first night and every day since then. It demanded her to feel the passion that was sparked whenever her and Noah were together, forced her to remember how much they've changed one another and to cherish every moment they had together whether it was one of many or the last.

"Hey, Rach."

Rachel turned, smiling softly. "Hello, Finn."

"I just wanted to wish you good luck." He looked down sheepishly, scuffing the shine off the top of one of his new shoes. "I already told Puck, but … I'm sorry about being a dick lately." He shrugged his broad shoulders, finally looking up at her. "You're my friend and I haven't been like, reciprocating that."

"We're still friends, Finn," Rachel assured, placing a gentle touch on his forearm. Things had been awkward between them all for the past couple of months, partially due to glee and partially due to Prom. Rachel honestly sighed in relief when Quinn and Finn won queen and king instead of her and Noah, even if she hadn't agreed with the pairing. She wasn't jealous – her and Noah fought about that more than once – but rather didn't appreciate Quinn using Finn (again) to win the title. Luckily Finn knew that's all Quinn wanted, and he kept a straight head the entire time; afterward, he and Quinn parted ways amicably, though it was a little weird in glee for a week or two despite the fact that Quinn hadn't really wanted to be in a relationship with Finn.

"Good." He grinned in that boyish way that only he could pull off, leaning down to give her a small hug. "Break a leg."

Rachel smiled brightly as she stepped back, winking as she said, "I love you, too," in as friendly of a manner as she could. They both laughed lightly at the inside joke, and then Rachel moved to the left side of the stage next to Mr. Schuester. Not more than a minute later, Rachel was walking to the middle of the stage, her eyes coyly catching Noah's as he positioned himself at the piano in the corner. In front of the microphone, Rachel inhaled that first big breath before she started singing her part of the duet.

_Kiss me too fiercely_

_Hold me too tight_

_I need help believing_

_You're with me tonight_

_My wildest dreamings_

_Could not foresee_

_Lying beside you_

_With you wanting me_

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_I've lost all resistance_

_And cross some borderline_

_And if it turns out_

_It's over too fast_

_I'll make every last moment last_

_As long as you're mine_

Rachel caught her breath, whirling around to face Noah as he transitioned his piano-playing role to the member of the band and moved to join her onto the stage. He stayed to her side, about twenty feet between them, but confidence oozed off of him. It made her blush for some reason, or maybe it was the look in his eye. She could read the expression too well, saw the love and pride swirling in the depths of his hazel eyes along with the swagger that made him irresistible on stage – and in life, honestly.

_Maybe I'm brainless_

_Maybe I'm wise_

_Bot you've got me seeing_

_Through different eyes_

_Somehow I've fallen_

_Under your spell_

_And somehow I'm feeling_

_It's up that I fell_

Puck turned away from the crowd, in sync with Rachel, and started to walk toward her just as she started the slow steps toward him while they sang together in harmony.

_Every moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_I'll wake up my body_

_And make up for lost time_

_Say there's no future_

_For us as a pair_

_And though I may know, I don't care_

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_Come be how you want to_

_And see how bright we shine_

The two had moved around each other as choreographed, now circling one another in slow, deliberate steps while Puck sang the first two lines of the last verse before Rachel joined in again. By the time her voice melded with his once again, her hands were pressed gently against his chest while Puck kept one hand safely on the crook of her bent elbow and the other caressed her high cheekbone – the one opposite of the crowd because he knew better than to cover her face to the audience.

_Borrow the moonlight_

_Until it is through_

_And know I'll be here, holding you_

_As long as you're mine_

"What is it?" Puck questioned into his microphone, his breathing labored but his entire being focused on Rachel – and not just because it was supposed to be – as both their hands trailed down to meet together in between them.

"It's just, for the first time, I feel …" Rachel trailed off, staying in character even though she lost herself in his eyes and the gentle caress of his thumb across the width of her knuckles. She always felt confident on stage, but now it was different; now she felt confident everywhere, because of him. "_Wicked_."

The audience didn't have time to go crazy, Rachel's last whispered word triggering the rest of New Directions' set, including an original song led by Santana and Mercedes centered around being wicked and then an upbeat group number that the whole glee club wrote and choreographed _months_ ago. For the first time ever – and it wasn't exactly something to brag about since it was the last competitive performance for the seniors – New Directions didn't have to come up with their set list or dance moves on the spot, and no one in the group hated someone else in the group.

It was perfect, and it was the exact reason why – again for the first time – the members of New Directions held nothing back when it was announced they had won fourth place. Artie fell out of his chair, Mike _and_ Brittany did some crazy acrobatics, and Rachel jumped into Puck's arms in excitement. They weren't the only ones who embraced in a similar public display of affection, but they were the only ones whose tongues crept into the other's mouth in a tantalizing duel.

"You did it, babe," Puck breathed huskily into Rachel's ear once she pulled away from the kiss just to wrap her arms around his neck and hug him tighter.

"We did it," she whispered, pulling back and looking deep into his eyes, her own dancing with excitement. "And next is New York City."

Puck chuckled. "We gotta wait a few months, Berry." He laughed again when she legit pouted. "You'll be takin' over the Big Apple in no time."

Her bright smile returned, her head nodding in confirmation. "We _both_ will."

He nodded just to appease her, but she knew him too well to know that he wasn't actually excited to move to New York. It wasn't just getting out of Lima; he could have done that no matter what, in a completely unconventional way that others predicted of him. But after getting accepted into Walden, Puck finally had confidence in himself to think he really could do anything he put his mind to. And while he wasn't certain what he was going to do when he "grew up", he was going to work his ass off just like Rachel would step on anyone she needed to in order to make it in Broadway.

And they were going to do it together. Not physically because they both had to live in the dorms for the first year of college for each of their scholarships, but they had already talked about afterward. Well, Rachel talked and Puck listened, which was still pretty incredible. Sure, he tuned in and out and sometimes shut her up by pushing her onto her back, but sometimes the two went hand in hand; it was hot that she thought about their future in such a real way, hot that she wanted him enough to envision their life together years down the road.

Not that he'd tell her that or anything.

"Whatdya say we chill tonight and bask in victory, and tomorrow ya can keep pickin' out drapes and shit for the future?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, but kept a smile on her face. "Very well." She leaned forward again, pressing her lips against his softly. It wasn't the first time he'd had to reel her back in, and already it was an inside joke between them; they both knew exactly what the other was thinking, because even though they were each excited for the future and whatever it may hold for them, the only thing that really mattered was the present. "As long as you're mine."


End file.
